


Unbound

by ribbonsandnightshade



Series: Untamed, Unbound [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avvar, Angst, Avvar, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, M/M, past Carver/Cullen, spirit possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2019-08-25 05:12:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 39
Words: 69,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16654873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbonsandnightshade/pseuds/ribbonsandnightshade
Summary: Felix Alexius hadn't expected his journey through the Frostback Mountains to go so horribly let alone to be taken in by a tribe of Avvar barbarians.  Yet he wouldn't be alive if it weren't for the kindness of a certain Carver Hawke and his family.  But one thing he knew, if the Blight wouldn't kill him, Carver was going to be the death of him.Carver Hawke was determined to protect the Lowlander that had wandered into Skyhold.  He'd fight the whole clan if necessary.  Carver just hadn't expected to come to care for Felix as much as he had.





	1. Carver

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this years ago and have been struggling to edit it, but I think it's finally time. Hope you all enjoy this!
> 
> Also I'm not entirely sure how the Thedas calendar works, so have my interpretation lol. And Skyhold isn't so much the keep in this au but a settlement similar to Stone Bear Hold.

[Month: late Cloudreach, early Bloomingtide (beginning of summer)]

“Blighted ass,” Carver Hawke grumbled under his breath angrily as he stomped through the hold, “Go suck on a fireball for all I care.”

Sometimes his brother really infuriated him.  Garrett was lucky Bethany was there to keep him from shaking sense into the bastard.  She’d always been the calmer of the two of them.  Carver wasn’t sure whether to be happy with his twin that she’d put up with so much from them or frustrated with her for not letting him knock some sense into their older brother.

“Honestly, what does he expect to find beyond the hold?” Carver muttered as he passed the gates and stalked down into the valley, ignoring the curious look of the gate watchers.  “Just because there’s elves running around doesn’t mean they’re _that_ interesting.  Why doesn’t he ever think things through?”

Even though he and his brother rarely got along, Carver still cared for him and was concerned that Garrett would get into trouble on his own as he so often did.  There had been reports of a Dalish clan roaming the valley and plains on the other side of the mountains, and Garrett had gone to make contact with them.  He’d made some excuse about learning different magic or something which Carver had scoffed at, but his brother had argued – or attempted to rile him up, as Bethany put it – that because he wasn’t a mage, Carver couldn’t possibly understand the differences in magic.

No matter the case, Carver still worried.  He was afraid for his magically-gifted brother and twin that they might leave the hold someday and never come back because some lowland mage-hunters would snatch them away.

Carver shook the thoughts from his mind as he made his way deeper into the valley, traveling far away from Garrett as he possibly could.  He needed the peace of the forest to clear his head and his anger.

Half the day had passed with little signs of game before Carver caught deer tracks.  This would do, give him a challenge.  Carver pushed back the thoughts of halla as he tracked the deer through the forest, purposely not trying to think about his brother _or_ elves.

As another couple of days passed with still no sighting of the deer Carver began to wonder if maybe he could just leave the deer and head off towards a gurgut den and kill those, release some anger and take care of a different problem since the shites had been attacking their ram herds.  Again.

No, that wouldn’t work.

There were a lot of gurguts for just him to take on with nothing but his bow and the sword strapped to his hip.  If he’d had his two-handed sword he might have had a different chance, but not by much.  Either outcome was foolish.

Carver sighed heavily at the thoughts and chose to focus on the deer instead.  At least that way he wouldn’t have a raging Bethany to deal with if he returned home injured.

The sun would only grant another few hours of light to track with and he didn’t want to waste it.  He’d make camp later and decide in the morning whether or not to continue the hunt or find other prey.

It was about another hour before a foul smell carried by the wind hit his nose and he nearly gagged.  Rotted flesh, disease, and whatever the rest of that horrendous smell was Carver didn’t know.  He’d never smelled anything like it before in his life and it made his stomach churn.

That wasn’t normal for the valley.  Something was very, very wrong here.

Carver stood there a moment, his eyes watering and his chest heavy.  He thought about just letting the other hunters know about the oddity when he returned to the hold so they could check it out, but he knew what they’d say and he didn’t fancy being called a coward.  He internally groaned as he followed the scent, watching the underbrush and trees like his namesake hoping he’d only find some carcass or something that wasn’t also harboring a predator.

The smell grew stronger until finally Carver stepped out into a small clearing and froze at the sight before him.  The ground was stained red with blood as it spilled from the mangled corpses scattered around the field.  Carver covered his mouth and coughed, the smell strongest here.  The fresh blood only added to the smell and he could taste the iron on his tongue with each breath he took.

“Korth’s fucking teeth,” Carver breathed as he drew his sword.

He didn’t know of anything that could cause this.

The people before him were more than just slaughtered.  They looked like they’d nearly been torn apart, hacked and slashed until they were barely recognizable as people.  Not all were so broken and scattered, but most were.

Carver’s feet carried him tentatively through the carnage as he tried to gather what had happened.  The armored bodies were clearly lowlander but which nation was indistinguishable.  He could see a few mottled bodies mixed with the dead, but there was so much blood and viscera everywhere that he wasn’t sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him.  Even the horses lay dead, he noted, as he continued toward the center of the scene.

Had another hold done this?  It certainly hadn’t been Skyhold.

No, this couldn’t have been done by human hands.

It wasn’t right.  Nobody he knew would slaughter people like this and the animals as well.

Some resources were sparse in the mountains and the stealing of horses was common among the holds closer to lowlander fields.  More than one caravan passing through the Frostback Mountains had had their horses and livestock stolen if they ventured too close to a holding.  To just slaughter the animals alongside their masters was a useless waste no hold would do.

As he reached the center, he found a half circle of soldiers around the torn remnant of what had been a woman.  A noble woman, Carver assumed by the elaborate dress, or, at least, what was left of it.  That which was left of her appeared to have been expelled away from her as if by some explosion.  Near her lay a man in similar dress with an arrow jutting from his neck, the ground charred at his feet and cutting a swath across the grass twice the length as Carver was tall.  A pendant with an engraved dragon reflected gold light where it was not stained crimson.

The hair on the back of Carver’s neck stood on end as he inspected the unfamiliar make of the arrow.  He knew immediately that he was being watched, but from what he could not say.  He tightened the grip on his sword as he glanced at the trees, looking for any sign of movement.

An odd, almost laughing, growl came from behind him and he turned quickly, raising his blade just in time to block the strike of the sword swinging down at him.  Carver’s mouth went dry as he met the beady, ghastly eyes of the monster before him.  He knew now that the mottled bodies he’d seen were not his imagination, were not just because of the battle.  These weren’t human – or if they had been, they were not any longer.  Nor were they any kind of undead or ghoul he had ever seen.  Yet Carver was sure of one thing, before him was the source of the foul smell as it radiated off the creature in waves.

The beast struck at him again and he fought back, fear quivering deep in his belly as the beast pressed him back.  Another monster sprang towards him and he drowned out his thoughts as they charged.

Carver’s limbs burned from each strike that reverberated up his sword into his bones.  He ignored the distraction of the sweat beading down his face or the trickle along his spine.  His attention was solely on the battle at hand and after a few more agonizing minutes he disemboweled one of the beasts before twisting and arching his blade through the air, the head of the second rolling across the scorched ground.

He stood there a moment in the middle of the field, his chest heaving and his heart pounding as he looked at the corpses of the monsters.  As his thoughts slowly returned something clicked in his mind, a tale from his childhood.

“Darkspawn,” Carver breathed in horror, panic filling every last place in his being the fear before had not touched.

Carver searched the field again, expecting more to come but he saw none.  He wondered for a second if they had been scouts or if they were the remnants of what had attacked the lowlanders.  The next wave of terror set in him as he remembered the stories of what happened if one caught the Blight sickness from a darkspawn and he checked himself over quickly, afraid he’d find an open wound but he found none.  He thought back if he had caught any of their blood in his mouth, but he wasn’t sure and his breath caught at the thought of it.  He prayed he hadn’t.

One thing he knew, whether or not he’d caught the Blight, he needed to warn the hold.  Darkspawn were not common in their part of the mountains and he feared what that might mean.

He’d barely taken two steps before another sound hit his ears and he readied his sword again, dread filling him at the thought of another fight.  Yet he saw no darkspawn nor heard their sounds like before.  As he listened the sound came again, the groan muffled and pained, and he searched the ground, following the sound.

Several paces away he saw a hand clutch weakly at the trampled grass from beneath a couple of soldiers, armor and bodies heavy.  Carver moved quickly, pulling the bodies off and dumping them to the side until he reached the owner of the hand.

Carver’s breath caught as the man gasped softly, air rushing into his pained lungs easier now that the weight was gone.

The lowlander’s fine clothes were drenched in the blood of his comrades who had trapped him.  As Carver inspected him for wounds, he noticed how young the man was, perhaps no more than his age if not a year or two his younger.  Slashes marred the lowlander’s front and side and bled more as Carver rolled him onto his back.  The gash across his left ribs was deeper than the one across the man’s right side along his belly.  He was lucky he hadn’t been disemboweled by the blow.  As Carver pressed bandaging into the man’s wounds, he noticed a bash across his temple where blood still clung to the lowlander’s face from the broken skin.

He sent a mental thank you to his sister for forcing the small pack of medical supplies into his hands the morning he’d left Skyhold.

Out of all the carnage, Carver had not expected to find a survivor.

The man grunted, gritting his teeth against the pain from Carver’s touch and turned his head toward him weakly, struggling to open his eyes and keep them open.  Yet for the short time that he had, Carver met the lowlander’s gaze, watching as the different emotions played across his dark, rich brown eyes.  The fear and uncertainty nearly drove back the pain the lowlander clearly bore.

“You’ll be alright now, lowlander,” Carver heard himself saying as the man gradually lost consciousness, head lolling back against the grass.

There wasn’t much he could do for him until they were in a safer place, so Carver quickly shook the blood from his sword before he sheathed it.  Then he lifted the man into his arms and made his way as swiftly as he could from the scene, praying he wouldn’t find any more darkspawn in the valley.

It was nightfall by the time Carver found a place he deemed safe enough to camp for the night.  Even then he was wary of building a fire in case it attracted more of the beasts, but the lowlander’s wounds needed to be properly cleaned and bandaged if he was to make it through the night.  It wasn’t the first time Carver had wished he’d been born a mage, but he was a warrior with at least some knowledge of aid.  Carver had seen worse injuries than this, and what little he had could very well be the only thing keeping the lowlander alive until they reached the hold.  So with the fire blazing, water heated, and his sword unsheathed at his side, he peeled away the lowlander’s shirt and began his work.

It took several passes of cloth before the wounds were cleaned of the blood that coated him to adequately inspect the wounds.  He carefully poured elfroot potion into the wounds, spilling more into the deeper wound at his ribs.  The potions would at least sterilize the wounds to block infection, but as Carver probed the wounds, he noted the signs of sickness already setting in.  He wasn’t sure if it was the Blight, never having seen it before, but his stomach dropped at the thought.  If the lowlander truly had the Blight, he feared he wouldn’t get him to the hold before he died – or worse, possess a fate far worse than death.

Carver forced the thoughts down and tended to the wounds as he would the other warriors of the hold.  It was all he could do for him as he made a balm from elfroot and crystal grace, prophet’s laurel and dawn lotus, grateful again for Bethany’s concern for his safety.  He’d normally be good with just the elfroot until he could get back to the hold, but he knew that if he’d gotten wounded badly, the crystal grace or prophet’s laurel would be the breaker between life and death.  He hoped, in this case, it would be enough to buy them more time.

Once the ointment was laid into the lowlander’s wounds, he bandaged the wound with the remainder of his bandages and waited.  It was going to be a very long night.


	2. Cullen

“Thane!” Barris shouted as he rushed into the cave.  “You’re going to want to see this.”

The warriors and hunters who had been conversing with the thane turned, their hands immediately going to their blades at the imminence in the warrior’s voice.  Thane Cullen Liontooth looked at him quizzically as he stood from his throne.

“What’s happened?” one of the men asked before Cullen could.

Barris barely glanced at him as his eyes fell on their clan chief, “Its Carver, thane.  He’s injured.”

Cullen’s eyes narrowed and he barked orders to his people as he strode out of the cave.  “Where is he?  Was he attacked?”

“I’m not entirely sure what happened,” Barris replied as he kept pace with the thane, “He said he took care of the problem but…Thane, he had someone with him.  A lowlander.”

Cullen’s steps faltered a half step.  “Colban, you and the others get to the gates.  Retrieve me at any sign of attack or lowlanders.”

The clansmen nodded and took off towards the gates.

 _What in Korth’s name have you gotten yourself into this time?_ Cullen grumbled.

“I’m not sure that’s going to make much of a difference,” Barris commented as he guided the thane towards the healers’ hut.  “He didn’t seem all that concerned about an attack on the hold.”

Cullen grunted at that before he stepped through the doorway into the hut.  It took him a few seconds before his eyes adjusted to the lower lighting but they immediately spotted where Carver sat on a stool.

Carver batted his sister’s hand away and she leveled a glare at him before he submitted to her care again.  She patted a cloth to the side of his head, coming away with blood.

“What happened?” Cullen asked as he joined them.

The warrior visibly swallowed and something passed across his eyes that Cullen couldn’t decipher before it was gone.

“Which part?” Carver replied with a half shrug before wincing.

“So help me, Carver Hawke,” Bethany growled, “If you move one more time—”

“Aye, I got it, sister, no moving,” Carver said quickly as he eyed her warily.  Then his attention returned to the thane.  “I’ll be fine, Cullen.  The lowlander…I don’t know.  He’s not in good shape.”

There was an almost sad, if not worried, look in Carver’s eyes as Cullen followed his gaze to the bed across the room where a handful of healers crowded it and its contents.  Cullen barely caught a look at the lowlander as the healers buzzed around him.

Cullen rubbed his forehead in frustration.  “What.  Happened?”

Carver winced again as Bethany continued the inspection of her twin.

“Here, give this to him for that claw wound,” a healer said as she handed a small bowl of balm to Bethany before rushing off to help the others.

Carver visibly suppressed a sigh as he removed the cloth he’d had pressed to his right side along his ribs revealing four good tears through his flesh that Bethany began to stitch up before gently applying the balm to each wound and finally wrapping it up when she’d finished.

“Lone gurgut,” Carver supplied at Cullen’s growing lack of patience.  “I’ll be fine.  Carcass is still down the valley if the hunters want to get it, but…”  He pursed his lips.  “Cullen, there were darkspawn in the valley.  The watchers rushed me here before I could get word to you.  They’re alerted at least.”

Cullen’s eyes were sharp on Carver as the news sunk in.  “Darkspawn haven’t been seen in these mountains for at least seventy years.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure the two monstrosities I killed a few days ago were darkspawn,” Carver replied sourly.  “Things smell bloody awful.  I could smell them from miles away, but I didn’t know that’s what it was until…”  He gave a heavy sigh, his eyes distant and his expression grim.  “There was a campsite in the valley.  Lowlander.  They were slaughtered…torn apart in a way I’ve never seen…and the darkspawn were there.  Found him,” he gestured to the lowlander, “under some corpses.  Wouldn’t have known he was there if he hadn’t made a sound.  Was wounded when I found him, but…He might have the Blight, I don’t know.”

Cullen’s thoughts were racing a thousand leagues a minute as he processed what Carver had said.

“How many darkspawn were there?”

The warrior shrugged and regretted it as he winced again, gingerly rubbing his side.  “I’m not sure. There were two that attacked me, maybe a dozen more dead on the ground from the battle with the lowlanders…maybe less.  I don’t know.  There were too many bodies to really get a good look.  I haven’t seen any sense – or smelled any.”

The thane nodded at that before turning to Barris, “Send word to Stormhold.  Best they be warned in case the darkspawn head their way.  And alert the hold.  I want everyone prepared in case those beasts show up here.”

“Thane,” Barris acknowledged as he laid his fists across his chest before rushing from the hut.

Cullen’s eyes fell on the lowlander again, still not getting a good look.  “Did he say anything?  About what happened?”

Carver shook his head.  “No, he was pretty out of it, and even if he could have, he’d only been awake maybe a few seconds before he’d pass out again.”

One of the healers had a grim look on her face as she stepped away from the lowlander and turned toward them.

“Thane,” she said as she joined them, “The lowlander’s Blighted.  There’s not much we can do except wait and see if what we’ve done either eases his passing or gets him back on his feet.”

Cullen’s brows knitted together. “Back on his feet?  Gretta, the Blight’s a death sentence.”

She scowled at him, “Oh, I’m sorry, thane.  I didn’t know that at all.”

He returned her scowl, not in the mood for sarcasm.

“One of the gods appeared not long after my brother brought him in,” Bethany said calmly at the tension, “They entered him and have not returned as of yet.”

Gretta nodded. “Aye, the god is still within him.  Why I do not know?  I’m hoping one of us can spare the time to see the augur about this.”

That didn’t make any sense.  Why would the gods intervene with a lowlander when they’d barely done so when Skyhold had seen the Blight sickness nearly a century ago?

“Besides the god,” Gretta continued, “The lowlander’s lucky Carver treated him with what he had on hand.  I think it’s slowed the progression of the disease enough that he hasn’t endured the worst of it.  If it’d been in his arm, I would have just amputated and hoped for the best, but it’s in his gut.  He’s lucky we still have some Wilds flower on hand.  As I said, thane, we have no choice but to wait and see.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose but nodded, “Understood.  Inform me if anything changes.”

The healer inclined her head and returned to the lowlander’s bedside.

_Annis better be in her hut.  The gods don’t just possess people unless they’re bound._

“And you?” Cullen asked after a moment.  “Any sight of the Blight in you?”

Bethany beat Carver to the answer as she said, “No, he’s fine.  I checked.”

“Yeah, like five times,” Carver muttered but Bethany ignored him.

An odd sense of relief flooded through the thane at that news.  At least he wouldn’t lose one of his closest friends.

“Good, I need all the warriors I can get right now.”

Bethany huffed at that, and gave him an unimpressed look before cleaning up her work.

Carver watched her go before he turned back to Cullen and inclined his head, knowing what Cullen had meant by the soft change in the thane’s expression.


	3. Felix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw panic attack

Felix awoke slowly, feeling like he was trying to claw his way through murky water.  It sounded like it, for that matter, as his senses struggled to make sense of his surroundings.

He blinked back the light as it blinded him upon opening his eyes, groaning at the sting from its brightness.  As his eyes adjusted to the light filtering in through a nearby window, he looked up at the wooden beams above his head, following their path towards the center of the ceiling where a circular hole gaped, smoke rising lazily through it into the blue sky above.

That was an odd sight.

He didn’t remember traveling to an inn, and he couldn’t think of a single one that would have something like that in its roof.  A farmer’s home, maybe?  Even less likely.  His parents wouldn’t have enjoyed that much.

There was a sinking feeling in his gut at the thought of them and he didn’t understand its origin.  Of course, the raw, gnawing feeling in his stomach didn’t help the matter either.

Something scratched at his throat and he coughed deeply, a wet sound, spitting something into his hand.  He felt numb and exhausted as he collapsed into the bed, weakly raising his shaking fingers and watching the blood run sluggishly down his palm.

“Oh, you’re awake,” a voice said and a woman was suddenly in his vision, a damp cloth in her hand.

She wiped away the blood on his hand before bringing it to his chin and lips.

“There,” she said with a smile, her dark hair framing her face with light curls, eyes nearly more golden than brown as observed at him.

He didn’t recognize her and he wondered for a moment if he was dreaming.  It’d be an odd dream if he was.  Yet he found his heart hammering in his chest as he met her gaze.

“How are you feeling?” she asked him.

At his silence she cocked her head, brows knitting slightly together.

Her accent wasn’t Ferelden or Orlesian – or any other he’d ever heard.  It was pitched over the syllables but smooth, an odd array of a sound that would have been rather delightful for him to listen to had he not felt like he was going to vomit from the churning in his stomach and the difficulty in perceiving the world around him.

“Do you not understand Trade?” she asked then, straightening from where she stood by his bed.

Felix’s eyes roamed over her trousers, apron, and tunic.  But what caught his eye was the leather and fur of her garments.  The only people he’d ever seen wear something similar were the Chasind guides that had—

He gasped and barely had time to register the regret of the motion as the flood of memories blocked out the pain: the sudden appearance of the darkspawn, the sting and burn of the blades that had slid across his body as he’d tried to dodge the strikes, the blinding-white pain that filled him from the blow to his head as another darkspawn had bashed him across his temple with its shield, the distant shouting of guards, the cries of his mother…

“Hey, hey, shhh, you’re safe,” the woman shushed, as she held his quaking shoulders down.  “You’re safe.  It’s alright.  Shhh.”

The air burned in his lungs, quick and agonizing like he couldn’t get enough, blood pounding in his ears.  His chest was too tight and he couldn’t speak passed the panic caught in his throat.

Then something filled his senses through his panic, drowning out the woman’s attempts at soothing his fear.

 _Be still, Felix Alexius,_ a voice said from nowhere but yet everywhere, _Be still._

It took him but a heartbeat to register the presence and then another for horror to fill him as he realized the voice came from within his own mind.  The voice did not belong to him and his terror flared as he realized a demon dwelled within him.

The presence overwhelmed his consciousness and his limbs went limp and heavy.  He screamed silently as his will was no longer his own, his body a puppet pulled by invisible strings.

 _No,_ he cried as tears streamed down his temples, sliding around the curves of his ears.

 _I mean you no harm,_ the voice stated and he shuddered though his body lay unmoving, _You are still quite ill, and this panic is not helping matters.  You are safe here.  Once you are well, I will leave and you may have your body to yourself again.  You are in no danger from us.  Now rest.  We will talk again when your fear has passed._

Shadows crept into the corners of his eyes before he felt a pull to his consciousness and there was nothing – no sound, no sight, no thought.

 

.   .   .

 

“No, Carver, you cannot see him.  He needs space,” said a voice Felix gradually recognized as he awoke.

He felt dazed.

“I’m not going to poison him, Bethy,” said another voice in frustration, masculine, almost familiar to the far reaches of his mind.  “I just want to see for my eyes that he’s getting better.”

“You are just going to have to trust me on this, brother,” the other voice replied firmly and Felix recalled the woman from before in a flash of memory, “The last he awoke, he had a panic attack.  Let’s wean him into the hold, ok?  This is all going to be a shock to him as is.  You know how lowlanders feel about us, especially people like me.”

There was a pause and Felix looked in the direction of the voices.  He surmised they stood beyond the curtain that surrounded the bed with just enough room for a person or two to stand on either side of him.  He remembered that that had not been there before, or if it had he hadn’t noticed it.

 _Will you remain calm this time, Felix?_ the voice inside his head said.

 _I am an abomination,_ Felix thought to himself almost numbly.

The spirit almost sounded like it had chuckled in amusement at him at that thought.

 _Great it can hear my thoughts,_ he sighed in dismay.

 _Aye, I can hear you, Felix_ , it replied, _Just as you can hear me.  Fear not.  You are not an abomination.  You still possess your will, your humanity.  Before was…unfortunate.  I knew of no other way to calm you.  Forgive me._ It paused.  _I am Health.  I am Healing.  Long have I lived in this hold, and long have I assisted the healers in their craft.  You have no need to fear me.  When your body stops rebelling against you, I will go._ _Until then, I am merely a backdrop, a visitor with no intention or desire of staying._

That confused Felix.

He knew that there were benevolent spirits, just as there were demons, but that didn’t make him feel any more comfortable at having a demon – spirit, he corrected himself at the feeling of disgust from the being inside him at the association – in his head.

 _You mean me no harm?_ Felix inquired.

_That is correct.  Bethany will explain.  When you are well, seek out Annis.  She will release me just as it is she who bound me._

The curtain parted and the dark-haired woman from his last waking entered, a soft smile breaking her face as she spotted him awake though her eyes were wary.

“Hello, again,” she greeted gently as she joined him.

He wasn’t sure how to respond exactly.  He had too many questions buzzing through his head.  After a moment he swallowed and chose to just begin somewhere.

“Hello,” he said, surprised by just how weak his voice sounded to his own ears.

Her smile brightened a bit, her voice almost teasing. “So you _do_ speak Trade?”

He gave a small nod, his head heavy.  “W-what happened to me?  Where am I?”

Felix couldn’t recall how he’d managed to go from bleeding out on a forest floor to lying in a bed in someone’s home.  He vaguely remembered a face – a man, perhaps – but it was blurred.  He recalled a voice attached to the face, but that too he couldn’t quite pull through the murk that was his mind.

It all felt like a nightmare and he hoped his suspicions were untrue.

The woman pursed her lips slightly.  “Are you sure you want to hear all of it now?  You’ve been rather sick for quite some time.”

He sighed.  “I wouldn’t have asked if I did not wish to know.”

In truth, he didn’t particularly want to know.  He didn’t want to know if his parents had survived the attack or not.  The thought of losing them was too painful, yet a part of him felt like the mystery of it almost hurt more.

She nodded slowly and sat at the edge of the bed, facing him.  “I am unsure of what fully happened to you.  My brother…He found you in the forest amidst a horrific scene.  He said you were the only survivor he could find.  If you want specifics, I am afraid you will have to ask him yourself once you are well enough.  It will be better coming from him.”

That…that wasn’t as much as he had hoped.

“And where is your brother?” he asked before he could stop himself.

“He’s just left.  I wasn’t sure if you were going to panic again, and I didn’t want anyone to disturb you in the event that you did.  His concern is admirable, but a bit of a pain in truth,” she replied simply.  “When you are better, I’ll send for him.”

He lay there in silence for a moment, processing what little she’d really told him.

He’d been found after the battle.  He was said to be the only survivor and for more he’d have to ask the man who had brought him here – wherever _here_ was.

“Where am I?” he asked again, resigning himself to the fact he’d have to be patient.

Without patience, he feared he’d lose himself in his tumultuous emotions.

“Skyhold.”

Skyhold?  He knew of no such place.

His confusion must have shown on his face because she stated, “You are among the Avvar, approximately three or four days from where your campsite was found.”

She looked like she wanted to say more but chose better of it.

The Avvar?  The barbarians of the south?  How had he – Right.  This woman’s brother.

His thoughts were scattered and broken and he found it hard to concentrate.

Felix hadn’t realized they had been in Avvar territory.  He supposed it had explained their Chasind guides’ nervous demeanor as soon as they’d traversed into the valley.

“How long have I been asleep?”

Perhaps if others had survived, those who had gone before the Avvar had found him, he could send a message to the chateau in Orlais they had been meant to visit or perhaps Minrathous or Qarinus.  Surely there had been others to survive.  There had to be.  Someone could come retrieve him from this place.

She pursed her lips.  “You’ve been quite ill.”

“So you say,” he said, meeting her gaze as an uneasy feeling came over him.

Her voice was softer when she spoke again, gaging his reaction carefully.  “You have been unconscious for nearly two weeks.”  He jerked at that.  “My brother treated you with healing herbs he had on hand.  It slowed the progression of the disease, and the god who is with you has kept you stable and alive.”  Then she muttered, “ _That_ has certainly riled up the hold.”

Again he laid there trying to process everything.  What exactly had he been sick with for him to be unconscious for so long?  If his parents had survived the attack, they’d likely be in Val Royeaux by now if not close to it.

The fact that he was possessed still didn’t feel real.  Perhaps it was just the dregs of delirium from whatever had plagued him?  Surely, the Avvar woman wasn’t serious.  He was just imagining it all.

“W-what was I sick with?” he asked tentatively.

Her expression was grim, voice quiet. “You have the Blight.”


	4. Carver

“The lowlander will cause nothing but trouble, thane,” Karras growled, “You know this!  Why keep him here?”

Carver clenched his fists where he stood against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest as he so often did.

“Because he has one of the hold gods with him,” Cullen said irritably, long since grown tired of arguing.  “Until the god leaves him, he stays.  I shouldn’t have to keep repeating myself to you.”

“I find it hard to believe that any of our gods would choose a lowlander.  And you have yet to give us proof that he does indeed bear a god,” Karras scoffed.  “Why did the gods not save us generations ago when the Blight came to us?  Why choose to save a lowlander?  Someone who is neither kith nor kin?”

“Because there were too many to heal,” the augur said as she strode into the cave, staff tapping on the floor as she walked.

The group that had been growling for the past hour like rabid dogs silenced as she commanded their attention and respect.

“The Blight is not something you merely put crystal grace on and hope for the best, Karras,” the augur continued as she came to stand next to the thane.  “We have but one god of healing and there were too many for them to save.  They chose to save one and that was that.  This time, there is but one Blighted soul.  They chose to heal him.  _That_ is _that_.”

Her words were ended in finality and Karras’s jaw worked as he restrained himself from arguing with the augur.  Arguing with the thane was one thing, irritating but not really noteworthy, but arguing with the augur was a different matter entirely.

Cullen raised a hand and eyebrow as if daring Karras to continue his tirade against the lowlander Carver had brought back to the hold.  Instead Karras exhaled sharply through his nose and glared at the thane.

“If you are done, I have more important things to deal with right now,” Cullen said, dismissing the hunters.

That looked to be the end of it but Karras had to open his damned mouth again.

“Then what will happen if he harms someone of the hold?  God or not, our laws are clear,” Karras inquired.  “What do you plan to do?”

This time it was Cullen’s jaw that tightened.

Carver glared at Karras for dragging this farce on.  What exactly could the lowlander do?  He was still bedridden!

Karras had been in an uproar ever since Carver had carried the lowlander’s limp body through the hold.  More than once he had cornered the warrior and ranted until Carver either pushed back or found an exit quickly.  If the hunter continued, Carver was nearly considering challenging him to the Test of the Lady or just outright fighting him in the arena to solve the mess once and for all.

“You’re hatred for the lowlanders blinds you, Karras,” Cullen growled lowly.

“Perhaps,” he admitted, or so Carver guessed, “But at least I still have concern for the hold.”

Carver straightened at that.  _Did he just…?_

Karras had always veiled his threats with a silver tongue, and both Carver and Cullen had known him long enough to see through his bullshit.  But even without the direct words, the challenge was clear in Karras’s tone.

Cullen sat taller on his stone throne, “Is that a challenge, Karras?”

There was a pause but Karras shook his head, “No, thane, it wasn’t.  But there are some in the hold who may challenge you over this.  Do you not recall the last time lowlanders were in the holding?”

“What happened to your sister was a tragedy, Karras,” Cullen replied tiredly, “but your sister was avenged and this man is but one—”

“One leads many,” Karras retorted.

The augur remained silent as she watched the display, nary an expression playing on her wizened face.

“What would you have me do?  And Lady help you, Karras, if you suggest throwing him out.  It would kill him,” Cullen replied, anger clear in his amber eyes.

“We cannot have that,” Karras said with a quirk of an eyebrow, “Not with one of our gods still bound to him.  I merely suggest more caution than you have presented, thane.  For the sake of the hold.  There is no telling what this lowlander will bring.”

Cullen sighed heavily.

It really wasn’t anything more helpful than the past hour of this crap.  But if Carver knew Karras at all, he knew he was plotting something.

Karras’s hatred for the lowlanders, though for the most part understandable, was going to cause problems for the hold and for the man Carver had saved.  He understood where Karras’s fears lay.  If it had been Bethany – or even Garrett – who had been stolen by the lowlanders’ mage-hunters and later murdered in front of him as Myra had…He could very well see himself falling in Karras’s footsteps, especially if it were Bethany.  Yet…

Carver recalled the last he’d seen the lowlander.  His copper skin had returned some color where it had once paled or had darkened from blisters.  He recalled the near cognac quality of his eyes – the way in which Cullen had snorted at the description because, of course, Carver would notice such a thing.  Carver had almost admitted, then, that excluding the Blight, the lowlander was a rather attractive man.

Yet Carver also remembered the fear in the lowlander’s eyes the day he’d found him.  He remembered Bethany telling her of her few conversations with him and the sadness and uncertainty in his eyes over the fate of his party, his family.  Carver could easily imagine his life as the lowlander’s if fate had chosen differently.

Carver had made the decision to save the lowlander, to bring him to the hold knowing full well what it could lead to for his people.  Hold politics or not, it would be a dishonor and injustice to abandon him now.

He shook his head to himself.

Bethany was going to kill him for this.

“I will take responsibility for him,” Carver stated loudly so that his voice filled the cave.

Cullen’s eyes snapped up to his, something unreadable in them.  “Are you certain?”

By his tone Carver knew what he was really asking.

Was Carver aware of all the consequences?  Was he aware that by taking responsibility of the lowlander, that any actions the lowlander did to endanger the hold could result in the death or exile of both himself and the lowlander?  That by taking responsibility, he’d be responsible for every aspect of the lowlander’s life until the day he left?

“You can’t be serious,” Karras gaped.

“Am I not the one who brought him here?” Carver countered before his eyes went back to his thane.  “I will take responsibility for the lowlander I brought, thane.  If he brings harm to the hold, then I will gladly face the consequences of those actions however the gods see fit.”

Cullen searched his face a long moment before he nodded.  “Very well.”

“But, thane!” Karras objected.

“The decision has been made, Karras,” Cullen stated firmly as he stood.  “You have your answer.  If you have a problem with Carver’s decision, meet him in the arena.  This is over.”

“For now,” Karras muttered with a growl before the hunter and his comrades retreated from the cave.

The augur watched Carver curiously and he restrained from making a frustrated noise in front of both her and the thane.

“Interesting,” the augur said quietly as she cocked her head, watching him carefully.  “Hmm.”  Then she was gone, something purposeful in her steps.

Once it was just he and Cullen, the thane set upon him.

“Are you mad?” he hissed, concern in his eyes.

“Aye, you’ve mentioned it a few times,” Carver grumbled as he pinched the bridge of his nose.  _Shite._

“Carver, if this lowlander…,” Cullen trailed off before he gave the exasperated growl Carver so desperately wanted to release, “If this goes badly…The hold has not forgotten what happened to Myra.  They will not trust him.  And I don’t expect Karras to play fair even with one of our gods within the lad.  He will come after you.  Or Bethany.”

Carver nodded in understanding.

Myra may have been bones for seven years, but the wound still bled like a river through the hold.

“I will deal with Karras when the time comes.  For now he is not a threat.  Not until the lowlander regains his strength.  There are too many healers with him to allow anyone near him.”

Cullen met his gaze again and sighed, “Korth’s bloody teeth, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“As do I.”

.   .   .

“Are you mad?” Bethany nearly screeched.

“Well, nice to know you and Cullen share that sentiment,” Carver rolled his eyes.

Carver had been right.  Bethany wanted to kill him.

“Even _if_ the lowlander doesn’t cause any trouble for the hold from his people,” she said, “You’re putting yourself in danger.  Do you honestly expect Karras to not start something?”  She lowered her voice as she said the troublesome hunter’s name.  “He’s not just going to let this stand.”

He gave her a pointed look as if she’d said the obvious as they stopped outside the healers’ hut.

“Bethany, I will handle it,” he said calmly, “but for now there is nothing we can do.”

She sighed heavily and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.  “Maybe…Maybe I can send word to Garrett, find him in the Fade.”

Carver looked up at the sky and released a groan.

Of course, she’d want to involve their brother.  Of course.  Not like he couldn’t do something for the hold or another on his own.

“Beth, just let me know if he’s well enough to talk,” Carver said tiredly, then he added, “or moved.  Healers’ will do for now but it is too open for my liking long term.”

“You’re serious then?” Bethany asked quietly.

“I gave my word before our thane and the gods.  I will protect him with my life.  And if he brings harm, I will face those consequences alongside him.”

She opened her mouth to argue but shut it with a heavy sigh.  “Fine.  The lowlander is still weak.  Give him another week before you move him.  I assume your place?”

He nodded.

“Alright,” she said, face blank as she often did when she was angry with him, “Then you speak with him.  He deserves to know the mess you’ve gotten each other in.”  Carver turned to proceed into the hut when she said, “His name’s Felix, by the way.  Just so you have something to start with.  Been meaning to tell you that.”


	5. Felix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a late update. Went to a Halestorm concert last night. New Years Day and In this Moment opened and it was awesome!

The voices outside the hut were replaced by footsteps before the curtain was brushed aside and one of the largest, if not tallest, man Felix had ever seen entered his space.  He would have thought the man half-qunari if he weren’t so far south.  He doubted even the Tal-Vashoth would have enjoyed this climate.

The Avvar paused a moment before the curtain fell behind him.

 _Maker, do these people ever wear clothes?_ Felix thought as his eyes roamed over bared, toned muscles across the man’s chest, arms, and – Maker – even the legs.

The man before him wore nothing but boots, a half-vest of hide, trousers that reached just to the knee, and a fur loin cloth that seemed to hold no purpose as it draped over the trousers.  The rest of him lay unadorned save for the sword at his hip.  His eyes paused once over the nearly healed gashes across the Avvar’s side before moving on.

Felix’s eyes wondered up the Avvar’s body to his face and met blue eyes like the sky through the ceiling vent.  His hair was dark and it curled slightly at the ends.  And surprisingly, he thought, the man’s beard wasn’t nearly as unkempt and overgrown as he’d have thought for barbarians of the south.  Instead, this man had a cropped beard cut close to his face.  All in all, he was every bit the Avvar warrior Felix had imagined of the Avvar.

Felix licked his lips with a sliver of his tongue.

 _Bastard could probably throw me over his shoulder with ease_ , Felix thought to himself not unkindly, then wondered if that was perhaps how he’d come to be in Skyhold if all their men were built like this.

“Felix?” the Avvar spoke, returning Felix’s attention from his thoughts.

“Yes?” he found himself saying, surprised and irritated with himself by how breathless his voice sounded.

Felix had gotten stronger over the past week since he’d woken.  Why it suddenly went weak he did not know.  Felix decided to blame it on the Blight, not the attractive dark-brunet in front of him.

The Avvar looked unsure at first, the fingers of one hand fiddling with the knuckles of the other.  Then he closed the last remaining steps until he stood beside him.  The man cocked his head at first before dragged the chair from against the wall so he could sit beside the bed.

“My sister tells me you are getting better,” the warrior commented, meeting his gaze.

 _Maker, they’re bluer than I thought,_ Felix thought now that he could see his eyes more clearly.

Felix snapped himself out of his thoughts as the Avvar tilted his head slightly, watching him curiously.  “You’re sister?”

“Bethany,” he replied, “She tends to you.  Well, her and Gretta.”

Ah, the dark-haired mage.  Then this would be…

“You are the man who found me,” Felix stated as he realized who the warrior was before him, taking him in as if with new eyes.

This was the man who had found him?  Who had saved his life?  Felix had pictured him differently and the knowledge of the man before him changed a few of his assumptions.

“My name is Carver,” the Avvar said with a nod, “If Bethany’s neglected to mention that.”

She hadn’t, but Felix appreciated the gesture at hearing it come from the warrior.

“Felix Alexius,” he said with an incline of his head.

Again Carver’s head tilted slightly, “Alexius?  That is not a legend-mark I recognize.”

Felix’s brow furrowed. “Legend-mark?”

“Do you lowlanders not have those?  Names given for great deeds?” Carver inquired, curiosity on his face.  Then he added as if as an afterthought, “Or is this how your people demonstrate your parentage suffix?”

“I do not believe so,” Felix replied slowly, only vaguely remembering legend-marks as he thought back to his studies.  “Alexius is the name of my House, my family name.  Though, we don’t use suffixes as I understand the Avvar do.”

“Ah,” Carver said quietly before silence fell between them.

“But you did not come here to discuss names?” Felix ventured after a moment.

Carver’s eyes met his again, obviously jerked from thought.

Again he nodded, “Aye, I did, lowlander – Felix.  Many in the hold are not happy I brought you here, dying or not.  But…we cannot just kick you out of the hold being both ill and possessing one of our gods.”

“Yeah, about that,” Felix said irritably.  “I didn’t ask for that, the spirit.  I’m told that someone bound it to me against my will.”

Carver almost looked guilty as he regarded him.  “That was probably Annis’ doing.  She’s the augur.  She seems to be the only one not surprised by it.”

“And does this Annis know what happens when someone gets possessed?” he knew he sounded patronizing, but the panic was rising in his chest again at the thought of the demon or spirit or whatever it was inside him.

“Aye, I believe she does,” the Avvar replied almost bemused.

“And it doesn’t bother you that I’m an abomination?”

Carver’s eyes narrowed in confusion.  “You’re not an abomination.  Possessed, yes, but you’ve retained your will.  You are very far from an abomination as I’ve seen them.  Either way, if that bothers you so much, you can discuss it with our augur when you’re back on your feet.  Bethany’s tried to get her to come see you but she’s refused for some reason.”

“And if I choose to leave this place without talking to her?”

Carver shrugged, “You’re choice, though it probably wouldn’t work out in your favor.  From what I’ve seen – _am_ seeing,” he vaguely gestured to Felix, “you lowlanders don’t take well to spirit possession.  And you’re not exactly in any position to get up and just walk out of the hold.”

He wasn’t sure if the Avvar were just mad or legitimately accepting of abominations.  But the warrior did have a point, to Felix’s annoyance.

Felix mulled over that, blinking as he spoke slowly.  “So I am to what?  Just tell the spirit to leave?  Is that how it works?  Or am I to be kept here against my will until you put me through whatever ritual it is to get rid of it?”

He didn’t want to think about blood magic, but his thoughts did hover near the edges of it.  It had crossed his mind more than once whether the Avvar had used blood magic on him to bind the spirit to him.

Something flared in Carver’s eyes as he spoke and he didn’t know whether to recoil or be mesmerized by the certainty there.  “You are no prisoner, Felix.  Of that I can assure you.”

“But I cannot leave.”

Carver sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck.  “No, not really, I guess.”

“Then how am I not a prisoner?” Felix protested.

The man looked sheepish of all things!

Carver swallowed and it caught Felix’s eyes as his throat bobbed from the motion.

“For some, until our god leaves you,” he said simply, “you are _urged_ to stay.  Frankly, I don’t see why the god can’t just find their way back to the hold if you do choose the leave.  It’s not like they’re small children.”

The spirit chuckled at the edges of Felix’s consciousness.

“Some people?” Felix noted at the Avvar’s words, trying to ignore the presence.  “Not you?”

“My concern is for your health,” Carver stated, leaning back in the chair, “You were Blighted – are Blighted…Whether that was my fault or not, you are still ill.  I would rather see you in full health before you set off to your people.  I have no intention of keeping you here longer than necessary.”

Felix watched him carefully.

The Avvar actually looked sincere – _sounded_ sincere.

“How would the Blight be your fault?” he asked after a heartbeat, deciding to take him for his word for the moment.

“Darkspawn attacked when I came upon your camp.  They were few, but their blood spilled on me,” Carver replied, not leaving his gaze, “If it weren’t for them, I might not have been alert enough to notice you yet lived.  I carried you away from there, but some of the blood I bore may have seeped into your wounds.  If that is the case, I am truly sorry.”

That actually made sense to him and he was surprised by the concern the barbarian had for him.  Felix had never heard of the Avvar or Chasind ever showing this kind of sincerity to outsiders.  Even his party’s guides hadn’t been this friendly.  If he were in Tevinter, he’d suspect there was some underhanded ploy beneath the honeyed words, yet the man before him…His eyes were clear.

Carver opened his mouth to speak then closed it, clasping his hands before him as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.  When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, “When you are well enough to be moved, you will be my guest and stay in my home.  Whatever you may need, ask it of me, and if it is in my power to give, I will see it done.”

Once again he was struck by this odd man.  There was a sincerity, an honesty, and a power to him that Felix had not seen before in a man such as him.

Felix had to admit that there was no way he was traveling to any civilized place in his condition, no matter how much he wanted to return home and forget all of this had happened.  The Blight was a death sentence; he knew this.  Evidently these people did not.  He’d much rather die in the comfort of his home, surrounded by the friends and family he had left, than out here in the untamed mountains between Ferelden and Orlais.

Yet Felix had no way to get back to Tevinter let alone Orlais.  He had no coin to his name, no proof of who he was.  And that wasn’t even considering the fact he was an abomination.  The southern Templars would sooner run him through than let him return home.

Until he had proof that the spirit could really leave him, he couldn’t help but feel like an abomination, a walking time bomb before he lost all control and hurt others.  No matter what Bethany or the spirit said, he’d be damned if he would die an abomination.  Though, the Blight would likely take him before he could even accomplish whatever heathen ritual these barbarians did to un-possess someone.

Felix was trapped in an unknown place with a relatively unknown people.  They were so incredibly different from his own, he had no way to guess just what they would do with him even with the research he’d done before the journey.

But no one could say Felix Alexius wasn’t stubborn.

If he was to be stuck with these people, he’d survive out of spite if nothing else.

Felix nodded after a moment, choosing to play to the Avvar’s ways as best he could guess, “Then I will stay until the spirit releases me.”


	6. Felix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What? Two updates in a day? Have fun lol

[Month: Justinian (summer)]

“So this is your home?” Felix asked as Carver led him into one of the many huts built along the cliffs that overlooked the virulent but fruitful valley and the snow-capped mountains beyond it.

From where Carver’s home was built, he could glimpse the river that cut through the valley and mountains opposite the hold.  The water sparkled in the light of the sun from what he could see of it.

Carver laid the pack he’d carried onto the table near the wall.  Felix noted that the hut was built similarly to the healers’ hut though much smaller.  In the center of the room blazed the central fire, the smoke wafting lightly up through the ceiling.  To the left of the fire, Carver stood aside letting Felix adjust to the shift in location.  Behind the firepit, the wall was lined with shelves holding numerous jars, small boxes, and other assorted items.  And to the right lay a curtain that obscured what looked like an addition built into the hut.

The Avvar noted where his eyes fell and he gestured with his chin towards the curtain, “You may rest there undisturbed if you want.  I’ve spent many nights in my bedroll so it won’t bother me for you to use my bed.”

Felix broke his gaze from it and returned it to Carver, forcing the heat on his cheeks back under the surface.

It had taken Felix a couple of weeks after Carver had visited him before he was steady enough to travel within the hold, but even the walk to the Avvar’s home had nearly exhausted him.  Whether Carver noticed, he did not know as the warrior gestured for him to join him at the table.  If he did, he was polite enough to not say anything.

“Bethany packed a few things for you,” Carver said as he pushed the bag toward him.

Felix leaned his hip against the table as he flipped open the fold of the bag and drew away its drawstrings.  Inside he found an assortment of healing potions and fur and cloth that he assumed were clothes of some sort.  His fingers ran over the fur lightly, marveling at how soft it was.  A part of him wondered if they were similar to the clothes he’d been given at the healers’ hut to wear until Bethany had returned his robes to him.  At least the Avvar had the decency to give him something that actually covered him, he noticed as he rifled through the clothes, so he wouldn’t be walking around half-naked like everyone else.

“I offered some of my clothes, but my sister laughed at me,” Carver said with a slight smile playing at the corner of his lips in amusement.

Felix quirked an eyebrow at him.

“You’re much smaller than I am,” he supplied, “As Bethany put it, my clothes would swallow you like a great bear to a mouse.  But you are still welcome to them if you need them until we can get something made for you.  I doubt you’d want to wear your robes all the time, being as you nobles never seem to wear the same thing twice from what little I’ve seen.  Unless I am mistaken.”

Felix felt a slight flush burn his cheeks and he attempted to suppress it again.  “My clothes will be sufficient.  I’ll just…wash them.”

Carver watched him for a few seconds before he nodded, “Beth, thought you might say that.  She’ll take care of that for you whenever you need.  But the offer still stands either way.”

Felix nodded at that and dropped his hands away from the bag.

After an awkward silence Carver cleared his throat, “Right, well, make yourself at home.  I have a few things I need to attend to in the hold, but I will be back in a few hours.  You’ll be safe here.  Oh, and before I forget, there’s a few lyrium potions in that box over there,” he pointed at one of the shelves, “If you need it, you can take some.  Beth brought them over before we moved you.  She wasn’t sure if you wanted the hold knowing you’re a mage – er, well she assumed you are since she says she can feel magic on you, but she wasn’t sure.  Said it was really faint, but that might have been the taint.”  The warrior rubbed a hand along the back of his neck.  “It won’t be a problem, if that’s your fear.  I mean, we’ve got a lot of mages here, but I know how you lowlanders feel about your mages sometimes, so they’re there if you need them.  I’m just going to shut up now.”

Felix was more caught off guard by the warrior’s sudden nervousness than he was that the man knew he was a mage.  He figured the healers had discovered it.

Mages tended to know when other mages were near by the pull of the Fade around them.  It was only logical the Avvar’s mages could sense the same shift that magic caused just as well as any Circle mage.

Carver nodded after a moment and said farewell before he left Felix to stand in the hut alone before the mage could say anything in response.

He lingered for a time after the door had shut before he sat wearily in a chair, resting his head in his hand.

 _What have you gotten yourself into now, Felix,_ he sighed heavily.

Normally, those with the Blight would not survive more than a few weeks at best (or perhaps worst), yet somehow he had.  He attributed it to being an abomination.  Surely, that was the only reason he had survived so long.  The spirit was merely keeping him alive and that it would all end at some point.  Yet he couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take before he succumbed.

A part of him hoped it would be sooner.  His family was gone as far as he was aware, and he feared asking Carver for the truth.  He had no way to return to Minrathous or his family’s estate in Qarinus, let alone live long enough to get there between the Blight and anyone discovering what the Avvar had done to him.  Though, he was begrudgingly curious as to just how the Avvar had bound a spirit to him and ensured the spirit was relatively separate from his own consciousness.  He could think of no case of possession in which the host still had his full perception, will, and control over his body and mind.  It was odd, and the longer he lived with the spirit, the more the curiosity grew.

He looked up as footsteps passed the house, someone laughing heartily.  Yet no one ventured to the door.

From his calculations, it was now Justinian, the sixth month of the year.  At least a month had passed since the darkspawn attack and his arrival among the Avvar.  If someone had told him at the start of this journey his parents had so insisted on, that this would be the outcome, he wasn’t sure if he would have laughed or locked his House inside their estate and refuse to leave.

A choked sob left him before he could stop it.

Felix doubted anybody knew what had happened to them.  And the thought that no one would know for some time, if ever, seized at his heart.

 _Be careful out there, Alexius,_ he remembered his childhood friend Dorian saying the day they’d left to visit various influential lords and places of power in Ferelden and Orlais.  _Can’t have you freezing to death in the middle of nowhere._

Dorian had given him a fire rune to warm his coat.  Neither of them had ever much cared for the cold.

He remembered rolling his eyes.  _There are worse things than dying, Dorian_.

And this certainly felt worse.  It was almost like a sick joke now that he thought back to his words.

Maker, he wished they hadn’t left Tevinter.

.   .   . 

Carver placed a bowl of something in front of him and joined him at the table.  As he moved his spoon through the stew, he noted what looked like carrots, potatoes, and some kind of meat.

Even with the warmer clothes Bethany had given him, he was still colder than he would have liked.  It was summer.  It shouldn’t be this chilly.  He blamed the blasted mountains that somehow still bore snow on their peaks.  And he blamed the Blight.  He just couldn’t seem to retain any warmth in his bones since the attack.  He hoped the stew would warm him up because the fire certainly didn’t seem to be doing the job.

The two sat in silence for a time before a shiver ran up Felix’s spine.

Carver’s spoon paused in midair as he looked over at him.  “You are cold?”

The concern in his voice was almost infuriating to Felix.  Southerners, let alone Avvar, weren’t supposed to be this concerned for people like him.

“No,” Felix lied but Carver must have seen right through it as he stood from the table and disappeared behind the curtain.

When he returned he paused beside Felix to gauge whether Felix would pull away before he draped a blanket over his shoulders.  Felix muttered a thanks before they sat in silence again.

“Something’s on your mind,” Carver stated plainly after a while.  “You don’t hide it well.”

Felix glanced at him warily a moment before he said, “I want to know what happened that day, the day you found me.  I don’t remember much.”

“Did Bethany not tell you?” he asked before spooning more of the stew into his mouth, shoulders tense.

“She did,” Felix replied carefully, “But I would rather hear it from you.  There are…specifics I don’t believe she could answer.”

The Avvar nodded after a few seconds.  “Then ask.”

Felix took a deep breath before he began, both dreading the answer but needing to know.  “I am told I am the only survivor.  My family…My parents were traveling with me.  I don’t know…Is it possible that there could have been other survivors?  Maybe they fled into the forest?”

He looked up at the Avvar hopefully and could see clearly that the man understood what he’d meant.  Carver was nearly an open book with his thoughts and emotions.

“Our hunters searched, but we didn’t find anyone else.  Even our allied clans have not seen any lowlanders.  If there were survivors, we have not discovered them,” Carver replied.  “Can you describe your parents?  Or something that might have identified them?  I can try to recall for you.”

Felix refrained from sighing in frustration.  He reminded himself to be patient, something that had worn abnormally thin since he had gotten ill.

“Um…My mother, she was wearing a green dress,” Felix began, trying to think of something that perhaps the Avvar might have recognized.

Felix honestly hoped she had escaped, or if the worse did happen, had died.  He recalled what had been discovered about the fate of women drug into the deep roads by darkspawn and he shuddered at the thought of his mother being forced to become a broodmother.

“How many women traveled with you?” Carver asked before Felix could think more on the image.

“Just my mother.”

Felix noted the sad look in Carver’s eyes as he looked back down at his meal.

“And your father…Did he have a dragon pendant?” Carver asked, his voice quieter than before.

Something squeezed deep in Felix’s gut and chest as he nodded.

Carver met his gaze again, “I am sorry.  There was the body of a woman dressed as you say.  She was surrounded by the bodies of your warriors.  The man with the pendant…He lay nearby.”

A small gasping sob escaped Felix’s lips and he turned away, pursing them into a thin line.  He’d known in a way, but having it verified...The pain was overwhelming.

He closed his eyes, forcing back the tears that burned there.

“I’m sorry, Felix,” he heard the Avvar say again, a gentle quality to his voice.

“What did you do with the bodies?” Felix asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

He almost felt detached from himself.

“There was nothing I could do at the time, but our hunters returned to the area and collected them.  One of our mages recalled that you burn your dead so she took that upon herself.  I hope that does not offend.”

Felix shook his head, “No.  That is alright.  Better than leaving them there to rot.”

Something shifted in Carver’s eyes but he didn’t say a word.

The conversation lulled, the only sound the clinking of spoons against the bowls.  Felix’s thoughts drew over each memory, each word, before pressing them down.  He’d think on them later when the pain had lessened, _if_ it ever lessened.

“Thank you for telling me,” Felix said after a moment, “and for saving my life.  I realize I’ve yet to thank you for that.”

Carver regarded him, his face unreadable for the first time he’d seen him.  All the warrior did was nod in reply, words seemingly insufficient.


	7. Carver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this a day early because I'm DMing a Curse of Strahd campaign tomorrow. Enjoy guys! <3

“Where are we going?” Felix asked as he finished buttoning the front of his robes.

Carver couldn’t help but notice that the dark blues, silver, and black that colored his robes looked good on the lowlander.  They complimented his copper skin and dark hair.

“The great hall,” Carver replied after he forced his eyes away from the lowlander.  “Our thane has called for a feast to celebrate your returning health.”

“Oh,” Felix said softly as he smoothed his hands down his robes, pausing shortly on the stitching that had sealed where the darkspawn blades had pierced him.

“Will you feel up to it?” Carver asked after a moment, watching the lowlander carefully.

He knew Felix hid when the illness sapped his strength and he didn’t want to put the lowlander in recline if he could help it.

Felix met his gaze and nodded.

As they walked to the great hall, Carver kept an eye on Felix for any sign of fatigue and another for anyone who might wish the lowlander harm for merely being in the hold.  By the time they reached the great hall, the thane was well on his way to being drunk from the ease in which he laughed and smiled across the way.

Cullen’s eyes nearly sparkled as he caught sight of the two of them.

“Follow me,” Carver said to Felix as he guided them through the throng of revelry that already filled the hall to the dais beyond the central fires and lower tables piled high with fruits, vegetables, and haunches of ram and deer meat.

Cullen raised a mug in greeting when they joined him.  “Ah, so this is the lowlander who has caused a tempest through the hold.”

Felix straightened.  “If my presence is causing upheaval—”

Cullen laughed heartily.  “Trouble or not, you’re our guest, lowlander.  Come.  Join me.  We’ll have to see if you lowlanders can hold your drink.”

Felix glanced unsurely at Carver but the warrior simply replied with a gesture toward an empty seat by the thane.

“Don’t worry,” Carver said quietly as Felix passed, “Cullen’s bark is worse than his bite…Mostly.”

“Thanks,” Felix muttered, unamused.

“It’s good to see you up and walking,” Cullen stated as Felix sat beside the thane, Carver taking the seat to Felix’s left.

“I would not be without your healers,” Felix said respectfully, his face a mask.  “Thank you.”

Cullen inclined his head to him in response.  “I am Thane Cullen Liontooth O Skyhold, lowlander.  I welcome you.  May we find you in good health.”  Again the thane toasted him.

“Felix Alexius,” Felix said as he inclined his head in return, “Thank you, for all that you and your people have done for me.”

“Carver given you any trouble?  I know he’s a handful but we can’t seem to get rid of him.”

“Oh, thank you for your load of confidence and love, thane,” Carver grumbled before burying himself in his own mug.

Of course Cullen would decide to be cheeky with him tonight of all nights.  He should have expected as such.

A knowing smirk played at Cullen’s lips, tugging at the scar that bisected his upper lip.

“No,” Felix replied, a mixed look of amusement and confusion playing in his eyes, “He’s been an excellent host.”

“Excellent host, he says,” someone below called up.  “Was that before or after his cock?”

A blush crept across Felix’s copper skin as his head jerked toward who had spoken.

Carver sighed heavily and rolled his eyes at the very drunk warrior.

“Why?   Are you jealous, Rylen?” Carver called down.  “If you wanted to bed me, all you had to do was ask.”

Rylen nearly fell over as he bellowed his laughter.

The thane cocked his head, eyebrows raised as he commented, “Carver does make a good lover.”

Rylen raised his cup to them before returning to the conversations at his own table.

When Carver looked back at Felix, he noted the startled look on his face.  Felix broke away quickly and took a drink from his mug before sputtering.

Cullen chuckled and pounded the lowlander’s back.

“Ugh, that was,” Felix gasped, “a lot stronger than I thought it would be.”

Carver smiled at that as Cullen replied, “I can have something else found for you if it is not to your taste.  Anything come to mind?”

Felix paused.

Carver wasn’t sure by his expression, but he wondered if the lowlander was debating whether Cullen was actually serious or not.

“I am a little curious as to Avvar wine, if there is such a thing,” Felix said.

Cullen turned to Colban who sat nearby and relayed the request.

Normally, it would have been Ulla who brought drink to the thane’s table when he had a guest, but Carver knew Cullen didn’t trust certain members of the hold to keep their word not to harm Felix.  Most wouldn’t, not with one of their gods in the balance.  But others…Others very likely would risk the wrath of the gods if it meant the lowlander no longer walked among them –or breathed.

Carver’s eyes scanned the hall, looking for any threat.  His eyes fell on Karras who stared back at him with disgust.  The hunters Rorik and Cathur sat with him.  None of the men made motion to move against the high table, nor did they express anything that might give away their plans.  Yet the intensity of their gaze made Carver uneasy.

“Here, try this,” Cullen smiled as he passed a wooden glass to Felix.

Felix visibly appreciated it much more than the ale after he tasted it.

Cullen’s smile was bright and wide, but when his eyes met Carver’s, Carver could see the calculation and caution in them.  There would be two eyes watching Felix’s back tonight at the very least.

A few clan-members came to the high table to greet Felix properly and welcome him to the hold.  If the lowlander was uneasy at all, he hid it well, his tongue sure and steady as he spoke.  Carver could see the difference between how Felix talked to him and how he talked to the hold.  He was guarded here, thoughts hidden behind mask after mask.

At times of silence, Carver could see Felix’s eyes grow distant, turned inward like he had seen his siblings do many times growing up and he assumed the lowlander and god dwelling within him were communicating.  A part of him was curious as to what the god was saying to him, but he shrugged it off as a warrior started banter with him again.

Felix reached for his mug and jerked his hand back as sparks of electricity formed between his hand and the glass.  He blinked rapidly as he stared down at his hand in confusion.

“Everything alright?” Carver asked quietly as he leaned towards him.

Felix looked up at him slowly and cautiously, not speaking.  Then the confusion was gone behind another mask and he nodded.

Carver watched him for a few seconds before he turned away, still keeping an eye on him from the corner of his eyes.  He wasn’t sure what that was all about, but Felix would speak if he truly wanted to tell him when the time came.

“Tell me, lowlander,” Cullen said, “I am curious why your party was in the Frostbacks.  We see few of your kind.”

Felix paused as he took a drink.  “My family were visiting dignitaries and scholars.  We were both investigating sights of magical power in Ferelden – some connected back to the ancient Alamarri – and visiting with the nobility of Orlais that have helped fund the finds.”

Cullen looked thoughtful.  “And you were investigating a site in the mountains?”

Felix shook his head.  “No, we were on our way to Orlais.  We have been in Ferelden for about half a year and we were making a trip to Val Royeaux to show some of our findings from a more recent site.  My father…he did not want to add weeks to our journey by going through Sulcher’s Pass, so he found Chasind guides to see us safely through the Frostbacks.”  His eyes were pained and saddened and Carver restrained the urge to offer a touch of condolence, unsure if his touch would be welcome.

“I am sorry for your loss,” Cullen replied solemnly.  “We didn’t know there were darkspawn in the valley.  If we had, we would have placed warnings.  Your Chasind would have known them and avoided the area.”

Felix nodded but remained silent.

“To those we’ve lost,” Cullen offered, raising his mug, “May they be at peace.”

Felix hesitated a moment but raised his mug to the toast.

Carver watched him, noticing the sudden emergence of frost at the man’s fingertips and how it moved up the sides of the mug gradually.  When Felix took a sip he drew back startled, pressing a finger from his opposite hand gently to his lips.

Felix glanced at him, feeling his stare.

Carver raised an eyebrow at him but Felix looked at a loss for words.

“Skald!  Spin us a tale!” someone shouted below to Svana, the hold’s skald.

“Skald?” Felix asked quickly, voice shaking some as his expression effectively returned behind a mask.  “That is your storyteller, yes?  Just as you are their leader.”

Cullen regarded him.  “You know of how our people work?”

“A little.  I have studied ancient Alamarri culture in the Minrathous Circle and at our dig sites.   And I have spoken with the Chasind who accompanied us.  My assessment was your cultures were similar.  Their thanes lead them, and their skalds remember the tales of the hold, its history, and passes it down to future generations.”

Carver leaned back, pleasantly surprised.

He had not met a lowlander who was knowledgeable of their people more than the myths that ran rampant outside the mountains.  The closest he’d come were the dwarves of Orzammar.

Cullen nodded, “Aye, that is true.  Then let us share some stories of Skyhold for your honor, lowlander.”


	8. Felix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's been a shit day so have another chapter. Ya'll can come talk to me about stuff on my tumblr assuming tumblr doesn't delete it. I'm over at ribbonsandnightshade.tumblr.com.

“Something is on your mind, Felix,” Bethany noted with a soft smile as she kneaded the dough on the table.

“Maker, the both of you can read me,” Felix muttered to himself as he sat back in his chair.

He’d found that Carver could tell when the Blight took more from him than he was willing to admit to the man, or that the Avvar somehow seemed to see through some of his masks to what conflicted him.

Her smile widened some, eyes knowing.  “Comes with years of divining our older brother’s thoughts.  He does not hide his intentions as well as he thinks he does.  Carver is more like him than he likes to admit, especially in that regard.”

Felix met her gaze with a quirk of his brow.

“Speak your mind, Felix,” she said, turning back to the dough.

Felix wasn’t really sure where to begin, and he didn’t want to offend her or her people.  But something had been nagging at his thoughts for days.

“I, uh…It’s just something that Carver and the thane had said at the feast,” he began nervously, flashing back to the feast in his honor nearly a week before.

Why the passive conversation had played at his thoughts, Felix wasn’t sure.  But it was biting at his curiosity rather annoyingly.

“Oh?”

“It was just, uh – Are your brother and the thane…?” he wasn’t quite sure how to put it into words for some reason.  “Well, I mean, they were rather blunt about – and I…”

Bethany looked at him amused, “If the conversation bothered you so, you do realize you can ask Carver yourself, yes?”

“Ask Carver what?” Carver asked curiously as he stepped through the threshold of his home.  “I’m not in trouble again, am I?”

 _Maker, preserve me,_ Felix gulped, praying the warrior hadn’t heard the conversation so far.

Felix’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes roamed over Carver’s bare chest and shoulders.  Sweat clung to his skin in droplets, dusting through the dark hair on his chest that trailed down past his navel below his trousers and those damnable loin cloths the Avvar for some reason wore.  He wasn’t wearing his vest today and Felix’s eyes kept being drawn to his broad shoulders, scanning over each freckle that was spattered there.

“I’ll be back after this has baked,” Bethany said as she carried the dough she’d been working on out of the hut on a wooden platter.

Felix had been unsure of her unannounced arrival earlier that day, but now he wished desperately for her to return so he wouldn’t be left alone with this awkward predicament.

Carver turned his inquisitive gaze back to Felix.  “You had a question?”

 _Shite_ , he thought to himself but said, “Uh, no, it’s not important anyway.”

Carver regarded him a moment longer but shrugged and went to the water basin across the room, taking the wash cloth and running it down his arms.

_Ok, now that’s just cruel.  Andraste’s flaming knickers, why do you do this to me?_

Felix couldn’t take his eyes away from the warrior, following the line and flex of his muscles as he moved.  Watching the stylized tattoo that covered his left shoulder and upper arm ripple from the movement – or maybe he imagined that, he wasn’t sure anymore.  As he watched he thought he saw the images of wolves within it, but he wasn’t sure from where he sat.  Perhaps mabaris?

The other upper arm’s tattoo was circular and glinted blue and silver in the black of the ink.  Felix thought he saw some runes, but Carver turned it from his view before he could get a better look.

He followed the path of the freckles and scars down his back, licking his lips as he reached Carver’s waistline.

“I can feel you staring,” Carver stated simply, an amused note in his voice, back still turned to him.

Felix’s mouth clamped shut and he tore his eyes away, hoping the blush that was surely traveling down his neck at that point would go away before Carver would turn around.

“If your question plays at your mind so badly, just ask,” Carver continued, a laugh in his voice.

 _That’s not helping_ , Felix thought to himself as the sound of Carver’s laughter made something in his stomach flutter.

Curiosity got the better of him after a moment of deliberation and he asked, “I had a question about something that happened at the feast.”

Carver turned and regarded him a moment, putting down the washcloth and nodding, giving him his undivided attention.

Felix opened and closed his mouth a few times before he finally just asked, “Are you and the thane…together?”

Carver’s brows knitted together and he tilted his head, “Together?”

Felix rubbed the back of his neck.  “The outburst with that hunter about –” he waved his hand before him, struggling with the words – “and your counter, _and_ the thane’s…”

Carver watched him a moment before recognition sparked across his face.  “Ah, Rylen’s comment about sex.  I thought you had looked uncomfortable by that.”

“Not uncomfortable,” Felix winced. “Just startled.”

Carver crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the wall.  “Startled?  Do men not bed each other in Tevinter?”

Felix flashed back to the conversations they’d had about his homeland, Carver full of curious questions that had forced Felix to dig deeper into his lecturing skills than he’d thought he’d ever have to.  Sex was definitely not something they’d covered.  He never thought he’d _have_ to cover it.

“Uh, no – I mean, we do.  It’s just frowned upon, especially if it’s out in the open like that,” Felix said quickly.  “I mean, any kind of sex really isn’t talked about openly.  It was just…Maybe surprising is a better word?”

Carver nodded slowly.  “I apologize if it made you distressed then.  That was not our intention.”

“No, don’t apologize.  I don’t share the views many of my countrymen share about the subject.  Maker, my best friend prefers the company of men.  It’d make me a hypocrite if I said it bothered me – which it doesn’t.  Maker, help me.”

Carver eyed him inquisitively, “Then may I ask why you reacted the way you did?  If it didn’t bother you, you certainly appeared as if it did.”

“It didn’t – Maker, I’m sorry, this isn’t how I meant this to go,” Felix sighed and rubbed at his neck.  “It was merely a culture shock to me – a refreshing one.  I have not met a people open about such things and it is a pleasant change.  And I…Forgive me, I suppose my curiosity got the better of me in regards to you and the thane.”

It took a moment but Carver seemed to understand.

“Cullen and I are not a couple, if that is what you’re asking.  We have slept together before, yes, but we’ve never courted each other.  Neither of us had the desire to do so.  It has been… _He_ has been pleasurable company.”  Carver blushed then and sputtered, “I did not intend for that to come out that way.  I…Shit.  I’m just going to stop now.”

“So,” Felix said contemplatively after Carver relaxed, “to the Avvar, sex between two people of the same sex is what exactly?  In Tevinter, it is a scandal for the nobility but otherwise not really noteworthy if kept out of the public eye – and that’s if we still do as is expected of us in regards to nurturing the magical bloodlines.”

Again Carver watched him carefully before he walked over to him and sat down at the table.

“Why so curious about all this?” Carver asked, leaning forward on the table and trying to avoid the flour still littering the surface.

Felix felt the blush before he could stop it, stuttering, “I, uh, n-no reason.  No reason in particular.  Sorry, it’s just…I am curious of the Avvar in many ways.  There isn’t much we know of your people even in what I have studied – and that has been more than many have had available to them.  This is not what I expected.”  He hoped the partial truth would save him from further embarrassment.

Carver was…incredibly attractive to him.  He blamed it on the dark curl of his hair, the clear strength of the muscles carved into his body, his height.  Dorian had always said he’d had a type (or types, at times), which Felix had stubbornly denied.  He could almost hear Dorian’s smug remarks if Dorian could see him now.  Of course, whether or not Dorian would approve of Felix’s unintended attraction to an Avvar barbarian of all people was another matter entirely.

But after the shock of everything that had happened to him, Felix did hope that his study of the Avvar would be enough to conceal whatever it was that drew him to the warrior.  He was, admittedly, curious of the man’s people, and Carver was certainly delightful company in conversations.

“Uh huh,” Carver replied and Felix hoped the warrior couldn’t see right through him like he seemed so often to do as of late.  “What do you want to know exactly?  We are not a shy people, so if I explain more than what you wish to hear, tell me and I will stop.”

Felix searched his face before he nodded.  Then finding some humor in it as he recalled past talks with Dorian that had lasted long into the night, he said, “Though, you might regret that offer.”


	9. Carver

“Ow!” Felix yelped from the other room.  “Maker’s breath, get the fuck off me.”

“You alright in there?” Carver looked up from the pot boiling over the fire, spices frozen in his hand midair.

He heard an exasperated growl before Felix replied, “Yeah, I’m fine.  This shite thing…”  A disgusted noise followed and Carver stared at the curtain perplexed.

Felix came out in a huff, muttering under his breath as he crossed the room.  Carver followed him flit here and there before he shrugged and continued cooking.  He knew by now that if Felix didn’t want to talk about something, he wouldn’t.

A crackling snap pulled Carver’s head back up to catch Felix jerk his hand away from the water jug on the table as if it had bitten him, shaking his hand out.  Felix glared profusely at the jug as if it had personally slighted him.  Carver remained still as his eyes passed from the object to Felix and back again, feeling out of place.

“Are you—,” Carver began slowly before Felix interrupted.

“I am fine, Carver,” Felix snapped grumpily, rubbing his palm and fingers.

“Right.” Carver gave him a skeptical look as he went back to stirring the stew.  “Well, since you’re a terrible liar and don’t wanna talk about it, why don’t you help me cook to wear off some of that energy.  I find chopping things up angrily relieves stress.”

Felix half scowled at him.  “Yes, well, you barbarians seem to like hacking things up for fun anyway.”

Carver smiled, testing a potato gingerly as it sat steaming on the wooden ladle.  “And just think, you haven’t seen Hakkon’s Trials yet.  That should give you something to really take back to Tevinter from us _barbarians_.”  He let the last word come out teasingly and Felix rolled his eyes.

“Fine, what do you need?”  Felix sighed.

“Well, since you’re too polite to tell me when something doesn’t taste just right to your delicate tastes,” Carver joked, “why don’t you come taste this and tell me what you think?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Felix eyed him for a few seconds before he gave in and strode over to the fire.

As he reached Carver, the flames burst to life, licking high up to the ceiling.  Felix reeled back as Carver dropped the ladle with a hiss before scrambling away.  The smell of singed hair filled the room and Carver checked himself over quickly for any smoldering embers on his clothes before he looked up at Felix’s panicked and paled face.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Felix said rapidly as he continued to step back, bumping into the edge of the table.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to.”

Carver got to his feet, keeping an eye on the fire as it sparked to life and died away unnaturally with each of Felix’s rattled breaths.

He spoke calmly as he took Felix’s upper arms in his hands, steadying him.  “Felix, I’m alright.  See no harm done.”

“I nearly burned you!” Felix exclaimed, chestnut eyes glistening with tears.

“But you didn’t,” Carver stated pointedly.  “Believe me, I’ve had worse from Bethany and she actually _has_ burned me.  And don’t even get me started on Garrett.”

“I…I can’t,” Felix struggled, looking obviously distressed.  Then he breathed, meeting Carver’s gaze with eyes wide with fear, “I can’t control my magic.”

Carver searched his face for a long moment before he nodded, “Alright.  But for right now, I need you to take a deep breath.  That’s right, keep it up.  Just relax.  We’ll go see the augur in the morning.  Figure out what’s going on.  Until then you need to calm yourself.”

“But what if I hurt you before then?”

“You forget,” Carver smiled gently, “I grew up with mages.  I think I can handle one more.”  Then his eyes roamed over Felix as his hands smoothed over him, checking for injuries.

“How can you be so calm?” Felix asked as his lower lip wobbled.

Carver merely blinked at him, not entirely sure how to answer.  “As I said, I grew up surrounded my mages.  I’m more used to these outbursts from children just coming into their magic, yes, but your magic being odd hasn’t really been anything new to me.”

“Wait, you’ve noticed?”

He nodded. “First noticed at the feast, and since you looked just as confused, I only assumed it wasn’t normal behavior for you.  And you keep doing little things like…What’d you do shock yourself on the jug?”

Felix glanced at the water jug before a broken laugh left him, his anxiety manifesting in a new form.  “Yeah.  I’ve been shocking myself all day, and stuff keeps clinging to me.”

“Huh, well that explains earlier,” Carver muttered with a quick up-give of his brows.

They stood there in silence as Carver’s touch seemed to gradually ground Felix, the fire dwindling back to normal as Felix regained control of his breathing.

“There,” Carver said gently, squeezing the mage’s shoulders once more before taking a step back.  “Why don’t you sit and I’ll see if I can salvage our supper?  In the morning we’ll go straight to the augur and see if we can get this sorted out.”

Felix looked tired but didn’t argue.

 _Well, at least I didn’t lose my eyebrows this time,_ Carver thought as he scrounged for the now charred ladle and inspected the stew.  _Of course, the night’s still young._


	10. Felix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have two chapters since I didn't post yesterday. It's been a long week of job searching.

Felix had barely slept, still feeling guilty over what had transpired.

He hadn’t lost control over his magic since he was nine and even then it had never been as bad as that.  With his magic barely capable of forging the simplest of spells, he hadn’t needed much training to control his abilities.  Now, things felt different and that scared him.

“Ready to go?” Carver asked as he watched Felix pull on his boots.

Felix nodded but didn’t speak, instinctively flinching when Carver reached out a friendly hand and another spark zapped from Felix’s skin and struck Carver’s palm.  He could tell it had hurt by the warrior’s expression, yet the man had the audacity to smile and take Felix’s hand gently.

“That is the fifth time since last night I’ve shocked you,” Felix noted quietly, trying to ignore the sight of Carver’s remaining arm hair sticking on end from the static electricity that rose off of him.

Yet Carver merely chuckled.  “Gives me a challenge.”

“Of course, you would consider this a challenge,” Felix muttered as Carver led him from the room and out into the sunshine.

The walk to the augur’s hut was uneventful and surprisingly short, but it felt like an eternity to Felix.  Carver knocked when they arrived before they were ushered in by a wizened woman who barely looked at them for more than a second.

“I was wondering how long it would take before you chose to visit me,” the woman commented as she walked around the room.

Veilfire burned from the candles that lined the walls and from the central fire, illuminating the enchantments made of bone, stone, crystal, and feather as they danced along the walls.  Herb bundles hung from the ceiling beams and Felix couldn’t tell if the pleasant smells of the earth and of spice he smelled were from them or the incense he spotted burning on a table.

“Felix, this is Augur Annis Incantation-fetter,” Carver said as he introduced them, “She is our spiritual leader.  Augur, this is—”

“I know who the boy is,” the augur said simply as she regarded him with piercing seafoam eyes.  “He bears a friend after all.”

Felix felt the spirit inside him move, if that were possible, as if it were inclining its head respectfully to the augur.  To his surprise, a smirk played at the woman’s lips as she bowed her head in return.

“You may leave us, Carver,” she said then, “I’m sure you have something more productive to do than sit around here all day.”

He blinked at her.  “I, uh.  Are you sure?”

She barked a laugh, “I’m not going to eat him.  Or I could.  He’s a little too young for my tastes though.”

Both Carver and Felix blushed at the wink she gave the Tevinter.

“Right, well, have fun,” Carver said quickly before retreating from the hut.

 _Big help you are,_ Felix grumbled nervously.

Again the augur regarded him before she said, “The Veil fluctuates around you like a rolling storm.”

He wasn’t sure how to reply, though, he certainly knew what she meant.  The Veil had definitely felt in flux around him since he had arrived among the Avvar.  At first, he had thought it was because the Veil was thin here, but at her words he was suddenly unsure of that assessment.

Then she nodded.  “Right.  Yes.  You came to me for a reason.  Speak your mind, child.”

He paused at her gaze before he responded, “My magic is unstable.  It’s never done this before, not since I was a small child.  I nearly…Carver…I could have killed him.  I don’t know what I did.  The fire he was cooking over just…exploded—” he made a frustrated motion with his hands—“The charred remains of the ladle should have been enough to make him stay away, but he…he stayed.  He wasn’t afraid of me.”

Felix paused, trying to reign in his fear again as the veilfire of the candle nearest him responded to his anxiety.

_Honestly, I will never understand him.  I wouldn’t have been as calm if we had been reversed._

“I see.”

 _Perhaps it is best to start from the beginning, Felix,_ the spirit suggested.

Annis nodded, “I concur.  Seems a good place to start.”

Felix straightened.  “You can hear it?”

She tapped her nose with a chuckle. “I hear them all, child.”

That didn’t particularly sit well with him.

He’d long ago tuned out the spirits of the Fade, and hearing one inside his head still made his teeth grind out of unease, playing at all the fears that had been ingrained in him from a young age.  Yet here was a woman who actually seemed pleased, if not arguably, fond of the spirits she could hear and communicate with.  Furthermore, Felix found it unnerving that she could hear the spirit inside his own head.

A thought crossed his mind.  What if she could hear his own thoughts?

He flushed at that.

There were many things he didn’t want anyone hearing.

The spirit seemed only entertained at his racing thoughts as if Felix’s discomfort was humorous.

“Your magic is different, refined, tamed – though I loathe calling it such,” she continued with a wave of her hand, eyes growing distant, “It is…buried deep yet clawing to the surface, getting stronger.  Hmm.  Interesting.”

“You could make sense any time now,” Felix snapped before he clamped his mouth shut.  “I apologize.  That wasn’t…I didn’t intend for that to come out like that.”

Her expression was amused as she gestured for him to sit at the table.  She pulled two mugs from a shelf and filled them with steaming water from a kettle she flicked her wrist at before it whistled in reply.

She took a sip before she replied.  “Tell me when this first began, the instability.”

He took the mug cautiously, steadying himself by the warmth that filtered into his hands as he wrapped them around it, watching the tea leaves at the bottom of the mugs slowly uncurled as they soaked.  “Maybe a week or two after I awoke here?  I’m not sure.  It started as little things: excess static, frost when I touched something, a candle coming to life before I even pulled mana to light it.  It just keeps getting more erratic as time passes.  The longer I’m here, the more…wobbly?  Is that a good way to put it?  The Veil and my connection to it…”  He shook his head in frustration as he struggled to find the words that seemed to tie on his tongue.

She nodded as he trailed off.  “I see.  And what do you think, Health?”

_I am unsure.  He glows bright but is dimmed, rabbit-timid in a sea of hawks, yet bears potential.  It might be my presence.  It has brought him closer to the Fade than he is used to, yet…I do not feel him pulling from the Fade, per se, nor myself.  It is a curiosity._

“Curiosity, indeed,” she noted, tapping her nose again.

_Perhaps…In order to keep him on his feet, to suppress the Blight sickness, I have pulled from the Fade.  Filled him with the energy he has needed to go from day to day._

“So, two things that have brought him closer to the Fade.  It could be possible it is causing the fluctuations.  After all, we mages are tied intricately to the Fade and its pull.”

“So do you know how to fix this then?” Felix asked, willing to entertain the idea that the Avver had an answer for him that wouldn’t result in him actually becoming an abomination – or less of one as it were.  “It _is_ because I’m possessed?  I don’t…I don’t even know how that happened to be perfectly honest.  I don’t remember calling a spirit from the Fade nor inviting it in.  And I have no idea how I’m not an abomination no matter what this spirit or anyone else says.”

Her face masked over for a moment, hiding all thought from him.

“Perhaps it is my turn to begin from, well, the beginning,” she replied softly.  “I saw you coming.  Not physically, as Carver carried you to the hold.  No.  Many things have been revealed to me over time, sometimes as they draw near, other times as they take their merry spell.  If one knows how to look…You, I saw.  Bright, as Health has said, yet dimmed.  Whether you were darkened by the Blight or your own limited magic, I cannot say.”

She took another drink of her tea and Felix followed suit, letting the gentle taste of chamomile and lavender flood over his tongue.  Normally, he would have preferred a bit of honey to sweeten the taste, but the augur seemed to prefer it bitter even for the chamomile’s slight sweetness.

“The gods made me aware of your presence as you were brought through the holding.  You were weak and I could see Carver’s concern as he cared for you,” she continued.  “Long ago, our hold was Blighted.  Your people may not have a cure for the Blight, but you do not seek through places you fear.  We are not afraid of the Fade – cautious, certainly, but not afraid.  It is where our gods reside.  Yet even the gods are limited in what they can do.  Too many of us fell victim and we had few gods of healing answer our call.  In truth, Health has been with us for generations.  Their job is difficult, even more so when there are many who require aid.  They could not jump from one body to the next to cure them of the Blight without abandoning the life they were just trying to save.”

“Wait, are you telling me the only reason I am alive is because this spirit is curing me of the Blight?” Felix asked, stunned and disbelieving.

He had never heard of such a thing.  It didn’t sound even remotely possible.  If spirits or demons could cure the Blight, then why hadn’t the Grey Wardens discovered it by now?  They had been studying the Blight – living with it – since the First Blight centuries ago.  Surely they would have found a cure if one even remotely existed.  He doubted the Avvar of all people would find one where the Wardens had failed.

 _It took me many lifetimes to discover it, Felix, but it is one way to cure the Blight that I have found.  Whispers in the Fade tell of another, but I have yet to hear more than whispers,_ the spirit responded as Felix moved from thought to thought, _Not all of my kind are so inclined to help mortals, or search for balms to wounds that none can mend.  I did not think I could help the poor souls who had fallen prey to the Blight, but I could try – **did** try.  It is a sorrow to recall the faces of those I lost before even one survived.  Much as you would test for your sciences, I was forced to test my theories on those who were dying.  It is something that will cling to me like shadow until I am rendered to nothingness and reformed._

So the Avvar had discovered a cure?  No, a spirit of the Fade of all things – people?  Felix wasn’t entirely sure how to classify the beings of the Fade now that he constantly was interacting with one as if it was simply another person.

Felix was perplexed to think of a spirit so interested in mortal lives that it would try again and again to save the sick.  Any other time, Felix might think it a trick, a ploy of a demon setting its trap.  Yet Felix did not sense a trap from the spirit.  He truly did feel the sorrow at Health’s failures just as he felt its joy at its success.

“So, you found a cure, and now you’re healing me?” Felix clarified, trying to put the pieces together fully as the puzzle unfurled before him like a portrait.

He felt it nod.

“How long will this take, then?  Curing me?  If I am to believe such a thing.”

_The last took over a year.  Even then I almost lost her, yet I clung to her and revived her until she was made whole.  With you…I cannot say for sure, but you are not a first.  Perhaps this time I will flow through the motions faster, find it easier to heal you and the targets of the ailment._

“I know you are eager to return home, but you may stay with us as long as you wish, lowlander,” the augur said as she curled her fingers around the mug, elbows pressed into the smooth wood of the table.  “There is no rush to your health, and anyone who has a problem with you being here has many faces that will gladly meet them in challenge.  Until then, we should work on one problem at a time.  The Blight will take it’s time to pass, but your magic is a more immediate problem.  I didn’t think sending Health to you, binding him to you so that you would remain separate and whole, would cause this – and I am still not entirely sure it is the cause just yet.  But it is as good a theory as any.”

She paused, seemingly looking inward.  After a moment she raised a hand and called forth veilfire, letting it flit around her hand as if it were alive itself.

“Magic is a raw embodiment of one’s will and their connection to the Fade.  To my people, it is not a creature to be broken or tamed, shunted and battered until it is remolded into something else.  I am aware that that may work for your people, or perhaps some of them.  To you it may seem more like you are chipping, crafting, shining and forming it so it shines like a jewel.  Perhaps that is true to some of it.  I cannot deny that training and mastery of one’s abilities leads to better control of them and easier manifestation.  What I mean is that magic comes from the self just as much as its berth is the Fade.  The spark within a mage that brings forth nature itself at its very definition…”  Her brows furrowed in thought.

“Nature is raw and wild, untamed and unmarred by civilization.  I have always viewed my magic as a friend, a partner, something that works in tandem to myself, yet not once have I forced it into something beyond its nature, beyond what it was meant to be.  As a god cannot be turned from its nature without becoming corrupted, so too is the case of magic.  Of course, though, you run into the problem of healing a corrupted god, turning back its nature from human selfishness to the better aspects of ourselves.  But that is neither here nor there.  Perhaps…What do you think, Health?  It has been a long time since you taught another.”

_Hmmm, it is a thought I had not considered.  Perhaps it would be for the best.  If anything, it will help us better gauge what has disordered his abilities._

The augur sank back in her chair, a smirk playing at her lips again.

“I am not going to like this, am I?” Felix asked warily.

He felt like an outsider listening to a conversation not meant for him yet about him.  It was a bit irritating since he couldn’t exactly ignore it as half the conversation was happening in his head.  It was even more agitating as the spirit buzzed around in his consciousness, clearly growing in excitement.

“The thane tells me you have studied the Alamarri, Felix,” Annis said simply with a tilt of her head.  “And it is to my knowledge that study led you to the Chasind and the Avvar.  Did your studies reveal how we train our mages?”

“I’m afraid there was nothing about your mages save that they – _you_ – practice hedgecraft and cannot be taught in a Circle once your magic has attuned to that craft.  It didn’t particularly expand on that part.  Though, that could easily be Chantry propaganda to battle against apostasy.  I gathered that it mostly pertained to the making of charms and shapeshifting.  The rest seemed like a cautionary tale on how unpredictable the magic would flow through the mage as it searched for an outlet, thus being a danger to oneself and others, being more susceptible to demons.  Otherwise, there was no evidence as to just how your magic is different than ours, and the Chasind weren’t eager to reveal it to us.  I can’t particularly blame them for being suspicious of our intent.”

She nodded.  “For good reason, lowlander.  After all, is it not your law that says any person possessed is an abomination and must be slain?  Is that not part of your mage-hunters’ duties?  To hunt those of us who are just so _evil_ and _depraved_ that we commune with spirits?”  Her eyes twinkled as if she were entertained by Chantry rhetoric.

“It is,” Felix replied with a nod of his own. “They’re job is to protect mages from themselves and to protect non-mages.  Of course, I cannot refuse the fact that some use the templars for political gain.  It is common in Tevinter, after all.  As for abominations…normally there isn’t anything left of the person who has been possessed.  I’ve seen an abomination once before, and it was…I have never seen anything more frightening, horrifying, or grotesque save for the darkspawn.  It was mindless yet intelligent and slaughtered everything in its path.”

“Yet you are not an abomination,” Annis pointed out, “but you believe you are.”

Felix’s brows knit together.  “No, not in the sense that I am used to viewing them.  But I _am_ possessed.  By my people’s standards, I would be an abomination.  If I were to mention it to any mage, templar – anyone at all – I would be branded an abomination and killed.”

“An abomination is a being who has given over their free will to, typically, a corrupted being of the Fade.  They do not work in tandem of one another.  Instead, the corrupted god rules and brings forth their will to achieve whatever goal they wish, sapping the life from its host as it does so it may live as mortals do – or as close to what they can achieve.  Gods like Health do not have the desire or need to take the life energy of their host.  What we do to our mages is different, though, your Chantry will not see it as such.  We are possessed, yes, but both parties are whole and it is a mutual contract that neither supersedes the will of the other.  To do so would form an abomination.”

“Wait, you willingly allow yourselves to be possessed?” Felix asked in shock.

“Aye, we do, lad.  As soon as a mage’s abilities manifest, the gods and the augur of a hold will select a god from the Fade most capable of teaching the child to, firstly, not fear their power, and, secondly, to control their abilities and resist the temptations of the Fade.  Luckily, being possessed already makes a corrupted god’s attempts at possession moot.  The mage simply must ensure that they do not corrupt themselves or their teacher.  To do so would mean death or exile.”

“That’s barbaric.  How can you expect a child to resist temptation?”

She laughed.  “Is it not so different than throwing your mages to the wolves to battle a demon to ensure they know how to defend themselves from possession?  Yes, the first several years are rocky.  Young children generally have their god teaching them and an older mage watching them for any signs of corruption.  For us, it is a better way of teaching respect for such a wild thing like magic, the Fade, and the gods themselves.  Magic must be respected just as nature must.  A mountain may collapse your path just as easily as a mage turns their home to ash.  That is why we urge such contemplation.  And every mage in this hold has gone through the ritual twice: once to receive the spirit, once for its release.  For some such as yourself, who are too weak, sick, or young to consciously accept, the ritual is modified to allow the god access.”

All the mages?  So the healer Gretta had been possessed?  Bethany?  Carver’s absent brother?  The augur before him?  Yet all seemed in full control of their abilities.

“My teacher was a god of temperance, the same god I sent to temper Carver’s hotheaded brother.”  Annis’s face lit with amusement and affection.  “Of course, he is one of the few cases in which two teachers were necessary.  His first was Valor.  Bethany was bonded with a god of compassion, a rare god even among the gods themselves.  Health rarely takes a student, but they are not much in a position to pick and choose at the moment.

“Your magic is unstable.  Whether that is because of their presence in you bringing you closer to the Fade or something else entirely is something we will simply have to discover with time.  Until then, I believe the best course of action for your safety and those around you—” he knew she was purposely not mentioning Carver by name—“is for you to train as our mages do.  Relearn how to control your magic.  Relearn not to fear yourself.  A fearful mage is a dangerous mage.  When the time comes that the Blight has left your bones and your magic is under control again, I will help you release the bond.  It is a simple ritual, but one you must willingly and wholeheartedly consent to go through with until the very end.  I believe you are strong enough to know when the time of something has come to an end and a new stage of life has begun.”

 _We will go slowly,_ the spirit assured.   _You have a foundation to work from, but there are some things that I must ask you to unlearn so that your magic flows freely, unhindered by self-imposed chains.  Unfetter.  Unbind yourself.  You will need to feel it like the tide at your feet, courage uplifting as you dive._


	11. Carver

[Month: Solace (ending of summer)]

“Hey, look at that, no static today,” Carver teased as he patted Felix’s arm, his hand flipping from palm to the back of his hand.

It was midday as Carver joined Bethany and Felix at the outskirts of the village.

“Oh, ha ha.” Felix swatted him away.

“I see the lessons have been working,” Carver noted at the mage’s training.

“He is an excellent student,” Bethany said as she opened the basket her brother had brought them for lunch.  “Maybe the two of you should spar sometime?  It’d be good for him to learn how to defend against a warrior compared to a mage.”

“Me?  Fight him?  Surely his mighty mage powers would turn me to ash where I stand,” Carver replied in mock fear eliciting a glare from Felix.

Carver laughed and the glare softened before Felix made a disgusted noise.

They sat on some boulders, the trampled grass before them seared and frosted from Felix’s lessons that day.  The sun was hot overhead, but sitting in the shade of the mountain where the wind was not blocked by the boulders gave them some relief.

“I would not be improving so much if I didn’t have such excellent teachers,” Felix replied as he grabbed an apple from the basket.  “It’s a wonder my father never thought about calling on a hedge mage to teach me.  I feel like I’ve learned more in the past weeks than I have from years of studying in Thedas’s finest Circles.”  He paused and then added, “And I suppose having a spirit teaching me isn’t as bad as I thought.”

Bethany smiled kindly at him and Felix’s gaze turned inward for a few seconds, likely listening to something Health was saying to him.

Carver was happy his sister had volunteered to watch Felix through this transition.  In all honesty, he hadn’t expected the lowlander to agree to being trained as his siblings had.  Felix still showed trepidation, sometimes anxiety, over the fact he was possessed against his will even if it meant saving his life, but he had made strides over the last month to accept it and work with what he had.  If Carver didn’t know better, he would have thought he saw an increase in the man’s confidence.

But of course, Carver was also happy that he wasn’t getting shocked every morning by Felix shuffling across the room in his half-asleep state he always seemed to be in after waking.

“I see someone’s managed to get a new bruise,” Bethany noted as she inspected Carver’s upper arm.

Carver glanced down at it and shrugged.  “Was sparring with Haren earlier.  Bastard has a mean shield bash.”

“Want me to heal it for you?”

Carver shook his head, “Nah, I’ve had worse.  Besides, it’ll remind me to be more mindful in my defense next time.”

His sister snorted over a mouthful of bread.  “You’re never mindful.”

Carver stuck his tongue out at her in reply.

Felix just watched in silence, amused.

“Maybe we should get a second opinion?” Bethany suggested and turned to the Felix expectantly.

“What?  Me?  Uh uh, I’m staying out of this.”

She pouted.

Felix laughed and Carver felt a delightful tug in his chest at seeing Felix’s smile reach his eyes.

“Is this what it’s like to have siblings?” Felix asked, laughter still in his voice.

Bethany tilted her head.  “You’re an only child?”

Felix swallowed a bite of his apple and nodded.  “Most families in Tevinter only have one child.  I supposed my friend Dorian was about the closest I had to a brother.  Our fathers were friends so we saw each other often, and then we saw more of each other when my father took him on as an apprentice.”

A sad but fond quality came to Felix’s eyes and he started munching on his apple again in silence.

“Sometimes I wish I were an only child,” Bethany said as she kicked Carver’s knee.  “These two are going to be the death of me.”

Carver feigned offense, hand clutching his chest.  “And to think I shared a womb with you.”

She laughed and kicked him again, putting just enough magic into it that he slipped off the boulder into the dirt with a thud.

Felix visibly suppressed a laugh as he watched the mischief.

“If you get your ass kicked so easily, how are you going to protect that precious lowlander of yours?” a gruff looking man said as he entered the sparring ring Bethany had drawn weeks ago for Felix’s practices.

Two hunters followed him.

“Karras,” Carver glared as he stood.

Carver caught Felix’s eyes shift from him to the hunters in the corner of his eye.

The man smirked at Carver but his eyes hardened as they took in Felix.  “Must be fun knowing that sister of yours is whoring away our traditions.  He’s just going to spread the news, you know.  Before we know it we’ll have mage-hunters down on our heads.  Think Garrett’s going to applaud you for getting your sister killed?  Assuming he hasn’t gotten himself captured at this point.”

“You forget yourself, Karras,” Bethany said as she hopped down from the boulder and stood beside her brother.

Carver could feel the magic pulsing off of her.  If the three before them decided to cause any trouble, at least he knew his sister had his back.

“Show some respect,” Carver growled.

“Respect?  To who?  All I see is a lowlander, a couple traitors, and the destruction of our way of life,” Karras retorted.  “You know, on second thought, you’re not traitors.  That would imply you ever belonged here.”

Carver’s hands clenched into fists.

“What’s your problem?” Felix spoke then, his eyes narrowed but unwavering.

“I didn’t fucking speak to you, you little shite,” Karras spat.

“No, but you’ve certainly eaten enough shit for the both of us today,” Felix countered and Karras’s nostrils flared.

If it had been anybody but Karras and his crew, and if the banter had been kinder, Carver could have laughed.  He could have reveled in the fact the hold was accepting Felix and choosing to tease as they did with everyone else.  But this wasn’t the hold nor a kind face.  This was Karras and that spelled nothing but a fight brewing.

“Karras, if you have a problem with me teaching Felix how to control his magic, take it up with Annis.  She authorized this.  And if you want to go over her head, here’s one of our gods.  I’m sure they’ll be happy to set you straight.”  She gestured up at Felix as she spoke and Carver spotted the quick flash of green that erupted across Felix’s eyes as the god manifested for a second.

If Felix noticed the appearance, he didn’t outwardly show it.

“You poked your fun, Karras,” Cathur, one of the men, chimed in then, eyeing Felix warily.  “He may be a lowlander, but he still has one of our own with him.  I’d rather not face the Lady just yet.”

Karras glanced at his comrade and Cathur shirked back a step, eyes on the ground.

“He leaves as soon as our god is released, Carver Hawke.  I’m holding you to that,” Karras reminded Carver before glaring back at Felix.

Then they were gone.

Bethany sighed heavily and shook her head, muttering under breath.

“Arsehole,” she grumbled as she returned to her perch, eating her lunch with a sour expression.

“Let me guess,” Felix said after a moment, “the side of the hold that doesn’t want me here.”

Carver ran a hand through his hair in agitation.

Bastard always had a way of getting under Carver’s skin.

“Yeah, he’s been the most vocal,” Carver replied.  “His hatred for lowlanders blinds him.”

“Why?” Felix asked.

“His sister was murdered by your templars,” Bethany said bluntly, “Leave it at that.  It’s not a pleasant memory.”

Carver watched his sister a moment, remembering how she and Myra had been good friends.

Felix searched Bethany’s face before he nodded and didn’t press the issue.

“Whatever the reason, it still doesn’t give him the right to be an ass like that,” Carver objected.  “It was uncalled for.  I apologize, Felix.  Neither you nor Bethany deserved that.”

“No, we didn’t, but I can promise you I’ve heard worse from my grandfather.”  At Carver’s curious look Felix continued, “My magic is barely enough to cast the most basic of spells – well, it was, I suppose.  In Tevinter, magical bloodlines are bred to encourage the development of powerful mages.  As my father’s only heir, I was expected to be more than what I am.  My grandfather wasn’t pleased with how weak my magic was, so he tried to have me killed.”

Bethany’s head snapped toward him, anger flashing in her eyes.  “He did _what_ now?”

Felix raised a hand as if it would pacify the beast that was Bethany’s temper.  “Hey, I’m still here, aren’t I?  Mother was pissed.  She…took care of the problem, as she put it.  Grandfather was on his pyre by the end of the week.  No more assassination attempts.”

Bethany just shook her head, not deigning his admission with a reply.

“Mothers protect their young,” Carver said quietly before taking a swig from his waterskin.

It was quiet in the field for a time as they let Bethany sit grumpily, waiting for the storm to pass.

“Hawke, huh?” Felix asked after Bethany excused herself, heading back toward the hold.  “Is that your legend-mark?”

“Hmmm?  No, it’s not.” Carver shook his head.

“A surname then?  I’ve heard quite a few people call you that.”

“Why do you want to know?” Carver asked, nearly snapping at him before he reeled in his temper.  “Sorry.”

Felix cocked his head at him.

Carver sighed and looked up at him from where he sat.  “We weren’t born in Skyhold, my siblings and I.  We’re from a rival clan further north.”

“How’d you end up here?”

Carver searched his face a moment before he replied with a short nod.  “Fine.  I will tell you if you really want to know.  Do you want the short version or the long?”  He gestured for Felix to follow as they made their way back towards the hold, hoping for the short but of course Felix had to be inquisitive.  “My family is from Hawke-beak Hold.  Our father, Malcolm, was the augur from what I’m told.  I was too young to really remember him or the war that took him from us.”

Something fell over Felix’s face and he straightened, more attentive.

“There was a blood-oath between the hold and Skyhold.  The terms were that there would be no bloodshed between the clans for a duration of twenty years.  We’d evidently feuded often and, to be honest, I’m not entirely sure what changed.  Nobody’s ever really said, but Thane Aedar Hawke-thorn O Skyhold and Thane Hren Oathbreaker O Hawke-beak Hold had formed the agreement in blood and we’ve never really thought anything of it.  I mean, blood-oaths are the most sacred next to making an oath with one of the gods.  You run the risk of wrath from both the offended hold and the gods of both if you break a blood-oath.”

“I’m guessing the legend-marks speak for themselves,” Felix remarked and Carver nodded.

“Hren found some sort of loophole in the terms that only he seemed to see and he ordered a raid on Skyhold.  Well, raid is too loose a word.  In short, he wanted the hold for himself.  My father spoke out against him, and when the thane couldn’t be reasoned with, my father warned Aedar.  That didn’t go over well.  Hren killed my father as a warning which turned into a split clan, some remaining loyal to the thane, others joining Aedar in bringing justice for what happened to our father.  As I said, I don’t remember much of it.  Beth and I were about five years old when it happened.  Garrett was old enough to have nightmares from that night for quite a while.”

He paused, going through the story as it was told to him by his mother and Aedar himself.  He didn’t want to talk about what he did remember of the conflict.  It had been years since his own nightmares had plagued him and he didn’t want them to return by thinking of them.

“Hren and his forces were defeated, the thane killed in combat.  The huntmaster, Maric – his son Alistair married the thane of Stormhold; they’re allies of ours – the gods chose him as the next thane and it was his duty to make amends for the oathbreaking.  Skyhold got a lot of food, new hunting grounds, a complete ban on all Hawkes in Skyhold, and us as payment.”

“They sold you?” Felix asked in surprise.  “I didn’t think the Avvar peddled in slaves.”

“Slaves?  No.  We weren’t slaves – and we don’t.  People aren’t commodities,” Carver replied, appalled.  “We were werewild.  It’s hard to explain to an outsider.  Basically, it just means an offering of peace for past wrongs.  People are very rarely given, but it’s a high price to break a blood-oath.  As the augur’s children, we were considered quality gifts – no, that’s not the right word.  I don’t know.  In truth, it wasn’t necessarily that we were valuable.  Aedar knew my father well, always respected him.  Hren still had loyal clansmen even in death and Aedar had been afraid they might move against us out of revenge.  It all worked out in the end, really.  Aedar took Mother and us in, helped her raise us.  He was a good man.”

Carver paused again as he remembered the only father he’d ever known.  A part of him was still sad he had so few memories of Malcolm.  It was why he had always been somewhat jealous of Garrett.  It still felt like Malcolm had been stolen from them and Carver still felt the sting for the man he had little memory of.

“So you retain your hold name?” Felix asked, going back to his original question.

“Not typically, no,” Carver shook his head, “We are Skyhold.  This is our home.  There were some who resented us, and the name was intended as an insult, a reminder of where we came from, of the oath that was broken.  Now…We carry it with pride, not as a badge of origin or a reminder of what can become of a hold that breaks an oath.  We – well, Garrett mostly – formed it into a name of our own make.”  He shrugged.  “Garrett prefers to go by Hawke most days.  It was mostly defiance at first, but the name sort of fit.  Beth and I are content the way we are.”

The clatter and woosh from the billows of the smith passed by loudly as they continued deeper into the hold.

“And your mother?  Nobody’s mentioned her, and I’ve yet to meet her,” Felix stated as he stepped out of the way of a trotting mabari.

“She’s over in Stormhold, actually,” Carver replied with another shrug.  “Remarried.  You’ll likely see her in the spring after the snows melt.  She always makes a point to visit us if we don’t visit as often as she’d like which is _all_ the time.”  He shook his head fondly.  “She’d like you, I think.”

Felix’s cheeks colored slightly.

“Of course, she’d also likely bombard you with questions and mother you.  She – Sorry, I didn’t mean – that is – Lady, help me.” Carver rubbed the back of his neck.

He really needed to watch his mouth before he spoke.  Carver thought he’d been doing so well to watch himself so he didn’t say anything to bring Felix’s old wounds back to the light.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Felix said as he touched Carver’s arm, apologizing after Carver winced, both forgetting of the bruise.  “I am still grieving, yes.  I will be for a long time.  It still doesn’t feel real.”  Felix paused, eyes downcast on the ground as they walked before he looked up again.  “If I am still here in the spring, I would like to meet your mother.  If anything, to see how on earth she managed to survive you and Bethany.  I’ve yet to meet your brother, but I can only assume he’s a holy terror as well.”

Carver nudged Felix as he laughed.  “Ha ha, your sense of humor is just sooo funny.  For the record, my mother blames Garrett for her white hair.  Compared to him, Bethany and I are perfect angels.”

Felix laughed back, smiling brightly, the melancholy spell broken for the moment.


	12. Felix (nsfw)

[Month: August near Kingsway, autumn]

“You are so full of questions!” Carver laughed before he brought his mug to his lips.

Felix liked how Carver’s laughter lit up his face.

“I did warn you,” Felix chuckled.  “We Tevinters are inquisitive by nature.”

They’d sat beside the fire for hours talking: Felix asking questions of the Avvar and the Frostbacks, Carver doing his best to answer.  Carver appeared an eager and enthusiastic teacher, brightening as he shared his home and world with him.  The Avvar seemed just as eager to learn about Tevinter which Felix tried to answer in kind, debating whether to gloss over the parts of his homeland that seemed to be so prominent as proof of Tevinter’s moral degradation.  The place was almost otherworldly to him now as he looked back on it and he’d only been with the Avvar for nearly half a year.  Working beside the Avvar as they prepared for winter, training as they did, it almost felt like he’d been born among them by how they treated him.

Carver’s smile was soft as he replied, “I had indeed been chased up the tree.  Garrett was beside himself with laughter at the sight of my ass sprinting just out of reach of the ram.  Bastard wouldn’t help me.”

“I’m surprised it wasn’t him up the tree,” Felix smiled back, content.

“Oh, he ended up there eventually.  That’s what we get for pissing off the beast, I guess.  Aedar debated on just leaving us up there.  Of course, if Cullen hadn’t found us first and told the thane what had happened, we probably would have been up there all night.  And _he_ certainly won’t let us live it down.”

A few moments of silence fell before Carver looked out the window.

“It is later than I thought,” he noted.  “Forgive me for keeping you up so late.”

“That’s alright,” Felix said as he put his mug down, “I enjoyed myself.”

Carver gave an almost shy laugh before he excused himself for the night.

Felix couldn’t blame him.  They hadn’t intended to stay up so late to talk, and a part of Felix felt bad for it.  Carver was to go into the valley in the morning with the hunters.  Poor man was going to be tired.

Felix paused before he let the curtain fall behind him, watching unintentionally as Carver stripped his shirt and trousers until he was in nothing but the odd loin cloth the Avvar wore over their trousers for Maker only knew why.  He pulled his own shirt over his head before his trousers fell to the floor after it, trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks.  Felix folded them on the small table beside the bed before he crawled under the blankets and furs that Carver had not taken to make his nest – no matter how much Carver might argue the point – in the other room.

Felix had found the warrior’s scent odd at first, not used to sleeping in another’s bed.  Now it was almost soothing.  It was an innately masculine smell, musk and pine and earth.  All Felix could think of was a warrior’s scent, something that foretold of strength and quickness, something that was just very _Carver_.  He had no other way of expressing it as he sunk further into the furs, disappointed that the scent had gradually disappeared over time.

He suppressed a groan before he eyed the candle at his bedside.

It had become a nightly practice for him to light it and blow it out without breath or touch, another lesson of the spirit’s to help him control his abilities.  It had taken him a couple months, but merely flicking his wrist at the wick had become easy for him, the life of the flame bending to his will.  Once Health considered it mastered, he’d move to lighting it with veilfire which was something Felix had never been able to conjure before.

.   .   . 

Felix gradually awoke to the feeling of a warm chest pressed against his back and the weight of an arm over his side, the hand gently splayed across his chest, fingers moving lightly over his skin.  He lay there in contentment as the hand crept along the plains of his chest, brushing a nipple, continuing down along his stomach and lower still.  Warm kisses were pressed into his shoulder and neck, teeth grazing as they went.

The insistent pressure of a hard cock pressed into his thigh and Felix shifted closer out of reflex.

“Mmm, beautiful,” words soft as lips were brushed against the shell of Felix’s ear, hand trailing down his waist to grip at his hip and pull him flush against the man who shared his bed.

Felix groaned at the touch, his own cock twitching against his leg as he recalled the face of the voice.

“Would you like me to claim you, lowlander?” Carver asked, voice low with desire, his hips moving slowly and his cock sliding against the crease of Felix’s arse.  “Claim you and make you Avvar, make you _mine_.”

Carver’s fingers dug into Felix’s hips, eliciting a hiss from Felix’s lips.

“Yes,” he breathed, whether it was in answer to Carver’s words or the trail of the warrior’s hand as it came to wrap around Felix’s cock.

Felix unconsciously bucked into Carver’s hand and the Avvar chuckled softly at Felix’s ear.

“Eager are we?” Carver said as he trailed kisses from Felix’s ear to his neck, sucking a mark into the skin.

Felix whimpered as Carver twisted his hand around the head before stroking him down again.

“Tell me what you want, lowlander,” Carver nearly growled.  “My lips sucking you off.”  Felix whimpered again, hips bucking.  “My cock pounding your ass until you come undone screaming my name for all the hold to hear.  To _mark_ you,” Carver bit where Felix’s neck and shoulder met eliciting desire from the man’s lips, “every piece of you.”

Felix was breathing heavily now, his hips bucking more insistently, seeking more friction.

“Tell me,” Carver said again, lips to Felix’s ear, hand quickening on his cock, the one pressed to his ass more persistent.

“I want…,” Felix breathed, struggling to find words.

“Will you let me have you?” Carver’s voice was just as breathless.

“Ye—”

A sudden bright light and a voice echoed through the room, “Be gone, demon.  This mortal is under my protection.”

Carver hissed in Felix’s ear and Felix struggled to sit up, the Avvar’s hand moving to keep him in place.

“I said, be gone!” the voice boomed like thunder and Felix clutched at his ears.

The warmth against his back disappeared and he sat straight up, staring behind him as he watched a desire demon heartily yanked from his consciousness.

 

Felix bolted upright in the bed, gasping for breath as he stared across the furs at the opposite wall.  His pulse was racing, heart pounding in his chest as small beads of cold sweat trickled down his back.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he breathed as his eyes squeezed shut with dread.

He could still feel the desire demon’s effect on him as his cock lay heavy and aching, the slightest touch of the blankets nearly making him come undone right there.  Even his disgust with himself for falling for a demon’s tricks could not diminish the sheer need he felt coiled deep inside him.  Yet Felix couldn’t bring himself to release the ache.  It felt wrong, tainted, vile that his desires had been used against him – desires he had not truly allowed himself to acknowledge.

Felix’s thoughts roamed to what the demon had used to get to him and it frightened him how it could just use his nearly unconscious want of Carver to its advantage.  Felix had not denied himself his attraction to the Avvar warrior, but he had not dared acknowledge the desire or lust that he felt for the man.  Carver was his host, his friend.  It felt like he was taking advantage of Carver’s kindness and innocence, if he could argue for that, to think of him in such a way.

“Fuck,” he breathed again as he scrubbed his face vigorously, trying to wash the images – the desire – from his mind’s eye.

This was a mountain, he thought.  Surely there would be a good snowbank close by that he could jump into.  But then he quickly noted that that would involve walking through the house and risking Carver seeing him in such a state.  The man was a light sleeper as it was, likely due to being cautious of raids.

Felix’s skin heated at the thought of having to explain this particular predicament to the warrior.  Whether the heat was desire or embarrassment, he could no longer tell.

He stamped down on his emotions and desires.  This was not something he wanted to think about, and giving it even one more thought was going to put him in a load of hurt and trouble that he didn’t want.


	13. Carver (nsfw)

Carver returned to the hold after another attempt at hunting absolutely miserable, plotting revenge in the back of his mind.  He supposed that was one good thing about having had Garrett as an older brother.  Revenge was always being planned, even if it took years to follow through.

“Maker, you look like a drowned rat,” Felix exclaimed as Carver entered the hut.

“Yeah, I feel like one,” he grumbled as he dropped his pack unceremoniously on the floor, furs still dripping wet.

“What happened?” Felix asked in a mixture of amusement and concern, coming to stand an arm’s length before him.

Carver ran a hand through his hair, catching it on a tangle and sighing heavily through his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut in frustration.  “A certain _arsehole_ decided to wander into a gurgut which prompted the fucking beast to charge.”  He rolled his eyes.  “Bloody idiot fled back to the camp and we had to deal with it.”

“And how exactly did that result in you being soaking wet?” Felix stood, trying to hide his amusement at Carver’s irritation.

Carver narrowed his eyes and nearly growled.  He wasn’t particularly in the mood to be laughed at, but with Felix…He almost tolerated it.  Almost.

At least the lowlander wasn’t squeaking at him whenever he stepped in the room like Felix had done for a time after the last hunting trip Carver had gone on a few weeks before.

“Carver?” Felix’s brows knitted in concern as Carver stood staring at him for some time.

“Sorry,” he muttered.  “Gurgut’s tail knocked me in the creek before we killed it.”

“And you’d still be soaked by now?” Felix asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, well, they thought it’d be funny to push me in the creek _again_ on the way back as a joke,” Carver muttered as he rubbed his forehead.

“Surprised you didn’t kill someone,” Felix noted as he walked over to a chest and pulled out a towel.

Carver sighed.  “I’ll get my vengeance sometime.  Us Hawkes are known for that.”

A small smile played at the corners of Felix’s mouth and Carver’s eyes honed in on them for a second.

“I bet you will, oh mighty warrior,” Felix teased, “Until then.  You’re dripping everywhere.”

“Aye, that I am, lowlander,” Carver said with a slight laugh and took the towel from Felix’s hand.

His fingers brushed against Felix’s wrist and he noticed the hitch in the man’s breath before Felix inclined his head briefly and set back to whatever he’d been doing when Carver had returned.

 _Interesting,_ Carver noted before attempted to dry off.

He got as far as his furs before he grumbled and undid the ties that held his vest and let it fall to the floor with a damp thump.  Next fell the loin cloth.  He still had his fingers curled in the ties of his trousers when he audibly heard the sharp intake in Felix’s breath from across the room and he glanced up.

Felix stood frozen, staring at his fingers before his eyes broke to meet his.  A blush crept across his bronze skin and there was a heat in his eyes Carver had just begun to notice within the last month.  Then something else flashed across his eyes – embarrassment, perhaps?  Shyness? – then he broke away abruptly.

“Um, do you want a change of clothes?” Felix asked, voice unsteady.  “I’ll go get you something.  You’ll probably catch cold like that.”

He hurried behind the curtain before Carver could respond.

Something fluttered in Carver’s chest at Felix’s nervousness and the desire, he nearly argued, that Felix presented.

Carver shook himself from his thoughts a moment, peeling his boots off and pausing as his thumbs dug under the sides of his trousers.  Before the look Felix had given him, he wouldn’t have hesitated, but now…

He was unsure of himself for the first time in many years.

Carver couldn’t deny that he found the Tevinter handsome, that there was a tightening in his chest or sometimes lower whenever he saw him.  Yet the man had been ill, struggling to adjust with the loss of his family and the knowledge of being bound to a god.  Carver hadn’t dared make any advances on Felix.  It wasn’t for a lack of want.  He could see himself spending a night with the man easily.  Not that he believed Felix easy, just far too easy for Carver to let down some of his walls he’d spent so much time building.

What stayed him was all that was Felix: his struggles, his personality and interests, the fact he would likely leave the hold within the next year once his health had fully restored.  Months ago, he would have resigned himself to a simple night between them and nothing more if it had been possible.  But after living with Felix for a summer and nearly the entirety of the harvest season…Carver found he had begun feeling something more and he struggled to keep it pushed down deep away from his thoughts.

Felix returned with dry clothes in his hands, hesitating where he stood as his eyes roamed over Carver’s body again.  For a moment, Carver didn’t know whether to stand tall or effectively make himself smaller and ignore what he was feeling.  There was that flutter in his chest again, and the familiar feeling of arousal a second later.

An image flashed in his head of pressing the lowlander against the wall and taking him there and then.  Heat rushed to his face and he bit down on his tongue.

“Um, here,” Felix said as he placed the clothes on the table.  “I’ll just give you some privacy.”

And then he was gone behind the curtain again.

Carver was surprised by the stab of disappointment that bloomed in his chest, and he found himself debating for a long minute whether he shouldn’t just see if Felix would be willing to bed.  Stop this shyness and see how things would take.  Yet another part of him was anxious to lie with his new friend and he shook himself.

No.  He would dress and put the thoughts in the past.

 

.   .   .

 

“Remind me what this is for again?” Felix asked as they sat in the cool mountain air, drums, strings, and flutes filling the night with music.

A bonfire burned in the center of the hold, and people danced to the music played.  The tables surrounding the fire and dancing area were piled high with food and drink just as they always were for feasts.

Once again, Felix sat with the thane at the high table as his guest.

“It is a celebration for the blessings we have received from hunt and harvest,” Carver replied.  “To give thanks for what we have been given and to welcome in the coming winter.”

Felix hummed in response as he took a drink of the wine he seemed to favor.  “Your healing god is buzzing tonight.”

Carver was oddly proud to hear Felix call their god what it was instead of a spirit, though it hadn’t much bothered him before when Felix had spoken as he had been raised.  It was more of pride to see the lowlander show respect to their culture in a way he had not seen any other of Felix’s people do.

“Aye, they will be,” Cullen remarked.  “This is for them after all.  They help ensure the hold prospers, that we have full bellies and kept shelters.  It is only fitting we honor them.”

Felix nodded as his gaze broke from the thane’s and returned to the fire blazing before them.

“I’m surprised you haven’t started dancing yet, Carver,” Branson, the thane’s brother who had recently returned from visiting their older sister in Stormhold, said merrily.  “Mhairi’s been eying you all not.”

“And Mhairi can continue eying me,” Carver replied, “I’ll not go home with her no matter how much she’d like me too.”

Branson quirked his eyebrow at him.

“Branson, how much do you want to wager he’ll go home and fuck your brother again this year?” Dubne taunted.

Cullen choked into his mug as Branson playfully swatted at Dubne’s head.

“He’ll have to ask nicely,” Carver countered which elicited a laugh from Dubne and Branson.

Branson leaned closer to Dubne and whispered, “Nah, I’ll wager he’ll take the lowlander home.  Two have been eyeballing each other all night.”

“All night?  Try nigh on a handful of months, at least,” Dubne replied.

Carver paused as he brought his mug to his lips.  He knew he wasn’t supposed to have overheard that, but a part of it struck a chord with him.

He hadn’t intended to show his interest so blatantly to the hold when he was still fighting with it himself.

“I’ll see that bet,” Branson chuckled and Carver tuned them out.

His eyes fell back on Felix.

Felix’s skin looked healthy as if he had never been sick, and he’d regained much of his strength.  He no longer tired from walking through the hold or the magical lessons and sparring Bethany had been putting the lad through.  Felix had actually regained control of much of his magic, and, surprisingly enough as Felix had pointed out, that it was stronger now than it had been before he’d left Tevinter.  Above all, there was a fire in his eyes that spoke of his fight and his small triumphs.

Carver wondered if he could convince Felix to share his bed tonight.  He felt a spark run down his spine to his cock at the thought.  It was an enticing image: pressing Felix into the furs and ravishing him, loving him like he deserved.  Carver shook himself from the thought, his chest tightening at the emotions of care that filled him.

“Carver.”

“Hmm?” his head shot up as he looked at his thane.

“Of course, you didn’t hear a damned word I said,” Cullen muttered.  “Take Felix to dance.”

“Wait, what?”

Cullen’s expression changed as he saw the sudden panic in Carver’s eyes.

Carver regained himself quickly and said, “I mean, uh, if he wants to I can.”

“I’d like that,” Felix smiled and Carver was nearly frozen in place by it.

He took another swig of his drink before he led Felix out into the space around the bonfire that was already filled with dancing.

Felix was a quick learner as Carver taught him some of the dances of his people.  Carver was nearly breath-taken at the fluidity and flexibility Felix possessed.  He’d have made an excellent hunter among the Avvar if he’d been born among the clan.

The thought crossed Carver’s mind of what Felix could do when writhing in pleasure or moving to give it in return.

He stumbled his step and then paused.

“Are you alright?” Felix asked.

“Uh, yeah, just the ale hit me harder tonight than usual,” he lied quickly, praying Felix wasn’t going to see right through him.

There was hesitation in Felix’s face before he lowered his voice, “The ale or did someone lace it?  I’ve seen you drink more than that and still be steady on your feet.”

Carver waved him off.

Cullen gave him a curious look when they returned shortly after and Carver excused himself.

He walked through the hold until he was far from the celebrations and found a nice quiet place to remain hidden from sight.

The thoughts of Felix had been more persistent lately than Carver liked them to be.  It was nearly maddening and he had no clue how he wanted to proceed.  A part of him didn’t want to see where that path led, yet another part of him begged to touch and be touched.

When was the last time he’d slept with someone?  Last Carver remembered was his thane nearly four months prior to Felix’s arrival.  Maybe he just wanted to feel close to someone again and that desire was being unintentionally put onto the man living with him?  Carver knew that wasn’t entirely true, but he’d stick to it for now.

His mind flashed to spotting Felix through the crack in the curtain that separated their sleeping spaces.  Felix had woken earlier than usual and had chosen to move the water basin to his room to bathe.  Carver knew Felix hadn’t meant to wake him, but he had and yet Carver hadn’t been moved to show as such.  Instead he’d frozen as he watched from where he lay as Felix swept the washcloth over his arms and shoulders, down his side and over the long scars across his ribs and abdomen, watching as the muscles flexed as he went, mesmerized by the water trickling down bronzed flesh.

Carver groaned at the image as he felt himself harden just as he’d done that morning.

Damn him, the lowlander would be the death of him.

He pressed a hand to himself, groaning again at the feeling, wishing it were Felix touching him.

 _Stop that_ , he hissed at himself and jerked his hand away.  _He is your guest.  A lowlander.  Not that that’s the problem specifically.  That I don’t mind.  You **know** better.  You do this and you’re never gonna be able to look him in the eye without giving anything away._

Yet the thoughts persisted.

He leaned his back against the wall of a hut, head thudding against the wood as he looked up at the bright stars.

“Fuck it,” he growled at himself, reaching his hand underneath the cloth and loosening the ties enough that he could pull himself from his trousers but remain relatively hidden.

He knew perfectly damn well that if he didn’t take care of this he’d be too distracted the rest of the night.  Consequences be damned, he’d deal with them as they arose.

Carver bit into his lip to remain quiet as he stroked long, firm motions over his cock.  He rubbed the pad of a finger over his frenulum, tugging at the foreskin.  An unconscious thrust and he was moving in his hand again.  He laved attention on the head a moment as his thoughts wandered to his lowlander.

It took him a second to realize what he’d thought, not knowing when he’d begun to think of Felix as his.  But the thought passed as quickly as it’d come, tucked away for later examination.

Carver imagined what it’d be like to have Felix kneeling before him, tongue lavishing over his head, up the vein on the underside of his cock.  He could see it in his mind’s eye: Felix taking him slowly, almost lovingly from crown to root.  He wondered how Felix would do it, if he’d tease him, drag out the pleasure, or bring him to a peak quickly.  Did the lowlander like the taste of spend on his tongue or was he one to prefer being painted?  Both made him whimper and he turned his body, pressing his forehead against the cool wood.

Felix was before him now, pressed bodily against the wall of the hut, his nails digging into Carver’s hip as he urged him faster inside him.  How would he feel?  How would he sound?  Would he be loud or a silent lover?  Would he cry out to the hold, let all know that Carver was claiming him, that he would be Avvar from then on?

A shudder ran though Carver at the thought.  He had thought of claiming the man before, but never making him one of the clan.  It made something tighten in his chest that he didn’t know how to interpret.

Yet something else persisted.

Would Felix even be interested in him?  Carver flashed back to what he had said of his homeland, of relationships as Carver had known being near forbidden in the public eye.  Surely the way the man reacted around him, the blushing and the stares…Surely, they meant at least some measure of interest.

He was close now.  Just a few more strokes, he knew—

“Carver?”

He froze bodily and mentally, for once having no quick excuse to fly from his lips.

“Are you ok?”

Carver’s thoughts melded one over the other as he straightened.  _Breathe.  Even out.  Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.  Please don’t let my voice crack._

“Yeah, I’m alright,” he said, trying to adjust himself inconspicuously, praying beyond prayer that he hadn’t been caught.  “Just needed some air.  That’s all.”

He was grateful that the loin cloth over his trousers was thick and wide, capable of hiding much.  If he was lucky, Felix wouldn’t notice anything – _hadn’t_ noticed anything.

Carver turned, meeting Felix’s concerned look _.  Did he notice?  Gods, why isn’t he saying anything?  Please let him not have noticed.  Korth’s teeth, I’m dead.  I’m fucking dead and doomed and he’s going to kill me. **I’d** kill me._

“You’re sure?” Felix asked again.  “You’re all flushed.”

“I, uh.”  His hand flew to the back of his neck.   _Fucking say something!  Damn it, don’t look at me like that.  Those eyes aren’t helping this situation at all._

There was a part of him that wanted to just tell Felix, to pull the mage into the darkness and make him cry out, spend on Carver’s tongue, bury himself deep inside his lowlander.  He didn’t care.  And found, as his feet moved for him, that he almost did without thinking.

“My favorite people!” Colban yelled nearby, stopping Carver in his tracks.

Carver suppressed a possessive growl and tried to gain control of himself.  Felix eyed him a moment but turned his attention to the warrior.

“Everyone’s your favorite when you’re drunk,” Haren laughed, stumbling into Colban as the two made their way toward them.

“Hey now.  You’re just as drunk as me, thank you very much,” Colban beamed.

Felix just shook his head fondly as the two stumbled over one another.

Carver didn’t know whether to thank all the gods and kiss Colban or be furious at having been interrupted twice.

“Hey now,” Colban’s eyes narrowed almost comically, “You two weren’t helping Branson win that bet were you.  I got money on you and I’d like to know.”

Felix blushed profusely.

_How did he hear?  Damn it, Branson._

Carver at least had something to blame his blush on.

“You’re drunk,” Carver said, trying to play it off as he so often did, “Even if we were, you wouldn’t remember it in the morning anyway.”

Colban just stared at him unblinkingly for a few seconds before he cackled with laughter, the sound echoing over the cliffs and homes.

Carver shook his head, trying not to openly stare at Felix’s blush reaching his ears.

At that moment, Carver decided to mentally thank Colban.  He hated being cockblocked, but he was nowhere near ready to ask Felix to share his bed if the anxiety in his belly was anything to make of it.  If he had, he feared one of them might have regretted it.

No, this wasn’t the time or place.  No matter how much he wanted to.  His lowlander deserved better.

_Lady, please let the rest of the night be uneventful._

Someone must have listened to his prayers.  Carver wasn’t sure he could handle anymore embarrassment.


	14. Carver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Carver is an ass and makes very bad decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a two part so you're gonna get two chapters today.

Bethany threw him a heavy bag as he stepped through her door.

“Oof.  Korth’s teeth, Bethany.  At least tell me what I did before you throw stuff at me,” Carver grouched as he rubbed his chest.

He may have been stronger than his sister, but that had stung.  It wasn’t often Bethany caught him off guard, but when she did, he was reminded that she was stronger than she looked.

Bethany rolled her eyes.  “I’m not mad at you.  They’re for Felix.  Winter’s coming and those robes of his aren’t going to keep the cold out.  It took me a while to make them, but hopefully they’ll fit.  Let me know if they don’t.  I can come over and take them in – or out.  Whichever he needs.”

Carver opened the bag and rummaged through the furs and hides.  He spotted fox pelts first before the farther down he came across what was clearly a bear, the black fur warm.

He cocked his eyebrow at her as he pulled a part of it out to show her.

“Honestly, Carver, do you not pay attention to him?  He’s been shivering for the past month.  Tevinter is warmer than the Frostbacks.  I’m just covering the bases.  If he doesn’t need it, then fine.  He at least has options.”

“I pay attention,” Carver scowled.  _A lot more than I should._   “But fire runes?  Really?”

She gave him an unimpressed look and folded her arms over her chest.  It was times like this she reminded him too much of their mother.

“Alright, fine,” he sighed.  “I’ll give them to him.”

“Yes, you will,” she replied matter-of-factly.  “And ask him if he needs anymore furs for the bed.  You’ve never needed many the way you radiate heat.  I think I might have a few spares.”

Bethany walked over to a chest and hunted through it as Carver sealed up the bag.

“Hmmm, maybe they’re in the other chest,” she said quietly, nearly pouting as she searched.  “Well, if I can’t find them, I’m sure he won’t object to sharing the bed.  Honestly, I think that’s the only reason I survived growing up.  I almost miss that.  Well, except for you hogging the bed.  You were always bad at that.”

He swallowed, trying to compose himself before she would turn around.  Carver knew his twin had meant it as an offhanded comment by her tone, but the thought of having Felix pressed against him was not helping the fire that had been raging in his blood for some time.  He licked his lips at the thought before he shook himself.

“Right, well, whenever you find them,” Carver said quicker than he’d intended, forcing himself to slow down as she looked at him over her shoulder quizzically.  “Thanks, sis.  I’m sure he’ll appreciate this.”

“Uh huh,” she said slowly, watching him carefully.  “You’re so weird.”

“Yeah, well if I’m weird you are, too.  Twins, remember?” he countered, attempting to change the subject.

She stuck out her tongue at him and then shooed him off.

Carver exhaled sharply as he made his way back to his home, the sun only a sliver against the horizon.

Felix was sitting by the fire, pulling flames from it as he wove them through the air.  He was concentrating hard enough Carver doubted Felix was aware of his presence just yet.  So Carver paused and watched him, the nimble, slow movement of his fingers as the flames wove through them, never touching.  Felix pursed his lips against the heat, the flame flashing blue-green a few times.

Ah, veilfire.

He remembered when Bethany had started learning how to make it.  It had been easier for her to start from normal fire and bend it to her will.  Looked like Felix was attempting the same.

Felix must have felt his eyes on him and he turned, blushing slightly as he took Carver in.  The flames sputtered out in the air and he lowered his hand.

“You’re getting better,” Carver noted, stamping down on the hammering in his chest.

Felix nodded.  “It’s getting easier, but I can’t seem to get the hang of it just yet.”

“You will,” he said as unburdened on the table.  Felix tilted his head as he took in the bag and Carver gestured to it.  “Gifts from Bethany.  Winter’s coming and she made these for you.  Even I have to agree you’re going to freeze to death in those robes of yours.”

He hadn’t intended to roam his eyes over Felix as the man walked over to him, eyes lingering on the sway of his hips, over the slope of his shoulders.  Felix met his eyes and Carver’s breath caught as the lowlander’s gaze gradually found heat, the honey and amber growing dark.

It wasn’t the heat from anger.  Carver had noticed this look for some time, had seen it in others – some he’d taken to his bed.  Yet to see it from his lowlander…

His mouth went dry and he looked away, wondering if Felix could hear the pounding of his heart.  It was so loud in Carver’s ears, surely the man could hear it too.

Felix glanced at him as he took the bag and pulled out some of its contents.  Then he laughed, his expression softening.

“So, I’m too look the part now, huh?” Felix smiled.  “Possessed, training as a hedge mage, and now dressed like one?”

Carver smiled slightly, an image flashing before his eyes of Felix: slender chest and shoulders bare, his hand brushing across the skin of his thigh as it traveled up under a fur loin cloth—

“Carver?” Felix asked, hand gripping his arm gently.

Carver’s eyes snapped up to his, knowing full well a blush was forming on his cheeks that he wouldn’t be able to hide.  “Hmm?  What?  Sorry.”

“Are you ok?  You weren’t breathing.”

Carver’s breath rushed out of him shakily and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

Felix stepped closer, brow furrowed in concern.  His hand traveled gently along Carver’s arm and Carver’s skin burned wherever Felix touched.

Carver suppressed a growl, the urge to pull Felix into him and kiss him until they were both breathless with need.

“Carver—”

“I’m fine,” he said far more harshly than he’d intended as he stepped away.

Felix jerked his hand back, stiffening.

Another shaky breath left him as Carver put distance between them.  “Sorry.  I’m fine.  I just…Sorry.”

Felix leaned against the table as he regarded him.  “Carver, if something’s bothering you, you can talk to me.”

Carver’s chest tightened as it so often did when he looked at his lowlander, yet there was fear in his throat.  He didn’t know how to handle how he felt, how Felix made him feel, and it was maddening to the point his temper was flaring.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Carver replied, hoping Felix would just leave this be.

Though he wanted the lowlander, wanted to know if Felix felt the same, he was scared to know.  Moreover, he was scared at what it might lead to beyond just sex.  Carver liked the man, a lot more than he should.  Felix would leave after the Blight was gone.  Carver knew this.  The thought of finding anything more, no matter how accidental or purposeful, only to watch Felix leave and likely never see him again terrified Carver.

“Was it something I did?” Felix asked quietly as he stepped forward again, his fingers brushing against Carver’s skin.  “I’m sorry if there was—”

“Felix, it was not you.  Drop it,” Carver replied curtly and ran a hand through his hair as he pulled away.

Carver’s skin felt like it was on fire and the way it pooled deep in the root of his cock didn’t help his mood in the least.  After weeks of this he’d had enough.  He couldn’t do this.

He’d felt guilty at the curt way he’d spoken to Felix, but damn that man for making him feel like this when he knew it would only lead to more hurt.  Carver knew it wasn’t Felix’s fault that even the slightest touch from him made him go crazy, nor was it Felix’s fault that Carver didn’t know how to deal with his feelings and desires let alone voice them to him.  Now he was regretting the uncalled for snap over nothing and the confused and hurt expression Felix had given him.

By the time the lowlander said goodnight early later that night and left him to his own devices, he’d managed to work himself into an agitated state over what ifs and his own lack of self-confidence in seeking what he wanted from Felix.

 _Damn it_ , Carver huffed and got to his feet after tossing and turning, having tried to find comfort in sleep himself.

The cool mountain air was barely noticeable on his skin as he stalked through the hold, avoiding any curious looks from the few clan members who were still awake at this time of night.  Overhead the moons shone brightly, barely a cloud in the sky to block out the twinkling of the stars.

Even if there had been no light at all, he knew the path to the thane’s hut like the back of his hand.  And before he could talk himself out of it, he pounded on the door and waited.

Cullen opened the door with a slight disgruntled expression.  But as he took in Carver’s demeanor, his brows furrowed and he stepped aside letting the warrior in.

“What’s up with you?” Cullen asked cautiously, gauging Carver’s agitated state.

Carver noted as he turned his gaze back to Cullen that he must have caught the thane preparing for bed.  Most of Cullen’s clothes had been discarded save his trousers which looked like they’d been hastily pulled back up as they hung low and uneven on his hips.

“I…,” Carver began before giving a frustrated sigh.  “It’s been a while since we – Look, I’d like to bed,” he said in almost a rush.  “I’m…”

Cullen gave a slow nod after a moment before he said almost as slowly, “I see…You’re sexually frustrated or...?  It’s been a while since I’ve seen you like this.”

Again Carver let out a frustrated sound.  All he wanted was to forget.


	15. Cullen (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Carver continues to make bad decisions and be a bit of an ass. Carver needs to get a grip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote this chapter like eight times and I'm still not happy with it but here ya go.

Cullen just shrugged and moved into Carver’s space, his hands sliding down Carver’s sides and resting on his hips.  He dug his fingers into the flesh there and pulled Carver’s waist flush against his eliciting a low hiss from his friend.  Cullen could already feel the pressure of Carver’s cock against him, far too hard for just beginning his touch, he noted curiously.

Definitely sexually frustrated then.  A part of him wondered what had brought this on.  Carver rarely had this problem, though Cullen didn’t particularly complain.

It hadn’t been the first time the two of them had shared a bed, frustration or not.  It had always been casual – enthusiastic even – between them, but it had been no more than that most times.  Neither of them had really wanted more, and they’d agreed it would only be about the sex, the companionship between their trust.  Sometimes it was Carver who would seek it out, as he was doing now.  Other times it had been Cullen, but Carver had been right.  It had been a long time since they’d been together.

Carver curled his fingers into Cullen’s hair and pulled him into a hard kiss, delving his tongue almost immediately into Cullen’s mouth and the thane obliged him.  Cullen let out a shaky breath as Carver’s nails dragged along the back of his arm from one hand and the other down the back of his shoulder along Cullen’s back.  It sent an immediate shoot of desire through Cullen’s core and he groaned into Carver’s mouth as the warrior pushed him back against a wall.

Carver’s mouth left his and trailed down Cullen’s stubbled jaw, nipping his way further down to Cullen’s neck and leaving red marks as he went.  It sent a shiver down Cullen’s spine and his hips automatically bucked forward.  Carver growled and pressed into him, grinding his cock against Cullen’s thigh.

Cullen recognized Carver’s grunt of frustration at the clothes between them and Carver grabbed at Cullen’s trousers, forcing them down until the thane’s cock fell free with a bounce.

It hadn’t been the first time the two of them had manhandled each other, and it wasn’t something Cullen minded in the least.  Yet there was a nagging voice in the back of Cullen’s head, something that wouldn’t drown out even at the feeling of Carver’s hand around his length.  Cullen’s cock twitched in Carver’s hand as the warrior stroked him.  He hadn’t paid attention to Carver stripping his clothes but felt the persistent prodding of the man’s cock against his thigh before Carver brought it up and wrapped the both of them in his callused hand.

A low hiss escaped Cullen’s lips at the feeling and his head fell back against the wall as Carver returned his lips to his throat.

Korth’s teeth, when was the last time they’d done this – the last time either of them had done this with anyone!

Cullen couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken someone to bed.  He’d been too busy over the past months with getting the hold ready for winter, prepared for raids, or worrying over whether the lowlander would bring trouble for the hold.  The lowlander…

Cullen groaned at how long it had taken him to realize what this was all about.  He should have realized sooner from the looks Carver had been giving Felix over the last few months to the desperate gaze Carver had given him once he’d opened the door.  Even if he was wrong, Cullen wanted to be sure before either of them regretted this in the morning.

“Carver,” Cullen breathed and groaned again at the sting of the bite Carver left in the crook of his neck.  It took all of Cullen’s will to regain control of himself and his voice, but when he spoke it was clear and full of authority.  “Carver, stop.”

His friend hesitated, Carver’s head turning towards him and away from the spot on Cullen’s shoulder where Carver’s teeth had grazed.

“Stop,” Cullen said again and pushed Carver away so they were at arm’s length, Carver’s hands leaving him.

“What?” Carver asked grouchily.

Cullen shook his head and folded his arms across his chest as he stared down his friend.  “This isn’t happening tonight.”

“What?  Why?” Carver questioned in exasperation, his head cocking to the side.  “You’ve never had a problem with this before.”

He took a step forward and Cullen struck his arm out fast enough that his hand made a loud crack against Carver’s chest where it impacted.  The look on Cullen’s face was all the warning he was going to give Carver and something flashed in Carver’s eyes he gave a slight nod in understanding.

“Normally, I wouldn’t say no,” Cullen stated, “But I’m not going to just fuck because you can’t own up to what – _who_ – you really want.”

Carver flinched as if Cullen had slapped him and it did nothing but confirm Cullen’s suspicions.  He could have just asked, been done with it, but he’d known Carver long enough to know he’d close down at questions in the mood he was in.

A part of Cullen had hoped he’d been wrong.  Not because he was against Carver having feelings for the lowlander – far from it.  He actually liked the idea.  Felix evened out Carver’s brashness and stubbornness, brought smiles to Carver’s face that reached his eyes in a why Cullen hadn’t seen in a long time.  Hell, Cullen hadn’t seen Carver so shy and stuttering over his words because he genuinely was attracted to someone in years.  No, what Cullen had a problem with was Carver running away from his problems and using Cullen to effectively hide.  That wasn’t ok and Carver should have known better, desperate or not.

Cullen sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead.  “Look, Carver, the offer between us still stands, but I can’t…I _won’t_ share a bed with someone who is imagining me as someone else.  And don’t you dare lie to me that you didn’t think about it.”  He gave him a pointed look and clenched iron around his heart as he watched Carver visibly deflate.

This was not something he was going to back down from.  Not even for a friend.

“It was that obvious?” Carver asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Cullen rocked his head side to side, “You almost got away with it.  Talk to me.  What’s all this about?”

Carver scrubbed his face with his hands, a ragged sigh leaving him.  His voice was quiet, “I don’t know.  I can’t…He’s just…Korth’s fucking teeth, why is this so hard?!”

Cullen almost pitied him.  Almost.

“It’s _not_ hard,” Cullen argued, ignoring the puns at the back of his tongue.  “We’ve been bedding for years for fuck’s sake.  You’ve never once been shy about asking it of me.  Just tell him you want him.”

“It’s not…It’s not that simple,” Carver almost whined.

“Not that simple or you’re just scared because it’s more than just lust for you?” Cullen countered and the flash in Carver’s eyes told him he’d hit a mark.  “Do you want a quick night or something more, Carver?  You’ve never had a problem with telling me how you feel when it comes to these things.  Why is it so hard now?  Judging by the way the two of you look at each other, it’s fairly clear Felix feels the same way – at least to some degree.  What is it you want from him?”

“Felix is just…He’s perfect.  I don’t – I _want_ more, but…The gods must hate me,” Carver growled as he ran a hand through his hair.  “Why would a lowlander ever want me?  You know what they think of us.  And Felix…He’s leaving in the spring anyway, maybe sooner.  You heard the augur.  The Blight’s almost left him.  I mean, he’s well enough he can probably go down the mountain to a lowland village and wait out winter there if he heals faster.  Either way, he’ll be on his merry way back to Tevinter and I’ll…I’ll be here.  Let’s just forget about this.”  His words were barely audible as he finished.

“Oh, Carver,” Cullen sighed, realizing just what this was all about and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Memories flashed through Cullen’s mind at consoling his friend when they were much younger after Carver’s advances had been turned down by the hunter he had fancied.  The bastard had been rather unnecessarily cruel.  All the hunter had to say was no and Carver would have left it at that.  Consent had always been important to both Carver and Cullen.  Carver would have respected a no and bowed out gracefully.  Yet the hunter had chipped away at Carver until he was so raw and broken he’d rarely spoken for months after the event.  It had taken the combined efforts of both of Carver’s siblings and himself to get him to open up again, but Carver hadn’t been the same.  Any other relationship Carver had had never lasted long and hadn’t ended on such a dire note since.

Cullen remembered their friend Petra had tried to get more than just sex out of Carver and he’d just chickened out of it.  Both Cullen and Petra could see the walls Carver had built up around himself when it came to matters of the heart.  He’d honestly hoped that after all these years, they’d started to crumble – almost thought they had after watching Carver relax more and more around Felix.  He had known Carver longer enough to read him and Cullen knew there was something more Carver was feeling for the lowlander.  He’d thought so surely that the walls were finally coming down.  Evidently, he’d been wrong.

“Carver, I want you to listen to me very carefully,” Cullen said after the prolonged silence.  “Felix isn’t leaving until spring.  He’s already asked me permission to stay until then no matter the outcome of his health.  Something about wanting to see more of our way of life, though I think there’s more to it than that.  He’s almost as easy to read as you are.  But,” he took a deep breath, “If this is becoming a problem for you…I need to know if you want him housed somewhere else.  Nobody is going to think lesser of you, and if someone has a problem with it they can meet me in the arena personally.”

“No,” Carver said quickly before clamping his mouth shut and mirroring Cullen’s earlier pose as he pinched the bridge of his nose.  “I just meant…”

“I know,” Cullen replied softly.  “Then I want you to do me a favor.  Talk to him.  It doesn’t have to be about sex or your desire for him.  Felix is…surprisingly honorable for a lowlander.  I don’t think he’d be unkind if you told him how you feel about him.  If in the event we’re both wrong in his desire for you, yeah, it’ll be awkward.  But this is eating you up inside and I hate seeing you like this.  If you don’t tell him, you will regret it for the rest of your life.”  This time Cullen closed the distance between them and put his hands on Carver’s shoulders making his friend meet his eyes.  “Whatever is to come, Carver, it’s up to you to form your fate.  The gods can’t do that for you.  Either you talk to Felix, or you let whatever this is consume you.  Who knows, maybe he’ll stay.  He’d make a good addition to the hold.”

Carver sighed heavily and leaned forwards, Cullen meeting him halfway as their foreheads met.

“I very well may have screwed that up,” Carver said quietly.  “I sort of yelled at him earlier.  I just…I’m starting to wonder if someone slipped me something because my skin just feels…Every time he’s around…I hate feeling like this.  I just want it to stop.”

Cullen gave a short nod against him.  “Well, if that’s indeed the case, your hand is just going to have to do for your frustration.  You can take my bed tonight.  Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve used your hand in there.  I’ll sleep out here.”

Carver snorted, “Yeah, with you helping.”

Cullen smiled at that and pulled away.  “But not tonight.”

A short silence fell between them before Carver asked, “Do you think there ever could have been anything between us?”

Cullen met his eyes, watching the almost shy vulnerability there, the half-distant gaze as Carver reminisced through old memories.  But Cullen shook his head, “Maybe once, but we might have missed our chance long ago.  I don’t know.  If you want something like that from me, we can talk about it, but you need to talk to Felix first.”

Carver opened his mouth to say something but closed it and nodded instead.

“Yet I wouldn’t trade this friendship for anything in the world.  Even if you’re an idiot sometimes, you’re my idiot.  We’re stuck with each other,” Cullen said and Carver smiled softly at him.

“Thanks, Cullen, and…sorry about tonight.  I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.  It was wrong of me, and I wasn’t thinking.”

“No harm done,” Cullen replied as he grabbed a blanket and looked around for a place to sleep comfortably.  “Just don’t do it again.”

“It won’t.  You have my word.”


	16. Carver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to post two chapters for you guys since I'm posting so late. I started a new job and it has me exhausted.
> 
> Also tw for rape mention in this chapter.

Carver awoke to the smell of Cullen’s musk, the furs kicked off onto the floor at some point in his restless sleep.  Guilt filled him at the memory of last night, of his lust-addled mind attempting to use his closest friend in a way he never would have done before and vowed never to do again.  Yet another guilt played at his mind as he recalled the desire-filled dreams of the lowlander in his bed while he’d lain in his thane’s.

He sighed heavily and rolled out of bed, the furs soft under his bare feet as he searched around for his clothes.  It took him a moment to remember they were still in the main room where he’d nearly torn them off in desperation.

 _Oh, fuck me,_ he grumbled to himself as he stalked out of Cullen’s bedroom.

Cullen snorted when he saw him, eyes flicking over Carver’s body before returning to his meal, “Was wondering when you were gonna notice that.  You’re lucky I didn’t tie them to Sorcha and make you hunt them down.”

Carver stopped in his tracks at the thought of chasing down the hold-beast to retrieve his clothes and grimaced.

Cullen chuckled at the expression on his face and held out a piece of buttered bread to him.

Carver let out a shaky breath and took it from his friend, rifling through the fruits on the table to add to the breakfast.

Silence fell between them as they ate, Cullen not appearing bothered by Carver’s continued nudity.  Of course, he couldn’t really say much.  The thane seemed perfectly content to sit naked himself.

“Your head clear?” Cullen asked quietly, slicing an apple.

Carver’s eyes flickered to his thane and away again, guilt still playing on his mind.  “Wish that it was clearer.”

Cullen hummed at him, his face blank.

“I apologize for last night, Cullen.  Truly.”

The thane snorted.  “Carver, you apologized enough last night.  We’re good.  Though you do have an apology Felix needs to hear from what I understand, _and_ an explanation.”

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair.  “Aye, I know.”

Cullen looked at him expectantly.

“Aye, I’ll talk to him,” Carver grumbled.  “Lady help me, it’s like talking to Bethany with you sometimes.”

Cullen laughed softly at that and gestured with his head at Carver’s clothes still lying in a heap on the floor.

Taking the hint, Carver collected his things and dressed quickly before pausing and walking over to Cullen, planting a chaste kiss to his lips.

Again Cullen snorted as he kissed gently back.  “Get out of here, you big idiot.”

Carver returned the thane’s smile before he left the hut.

A cool breeze blew through the hold as Carver wandered.  He wasn’t prepared to return to his hut just yet.  The guilt still played at him, but he was also nervous.  He had never really been good at apologizing, least of all to someone he cared about like this.  Yet there was a part of Carver that didn’t want to be forgiven.

Felix hadn’t deserved being snapped at.  He’d done nothing wrong.

Carver knew better than to pine or to push his emotions down.  It never ended well.  All it did was fester and consume him as whatever it was he was feeling for Felix was doing now.

If Felix had been Avvar, he wouldn’t be as hesitant to pursue a relationship with him.  There wasn’t as much a chance that Felix would just leave him as if there had been nothing between them if that were the case.  He liked the idea of Felix becoming a part of the hold’s frith just as much as it scared him.  A part of him could see himself letting Felix in fully, and there was an even larger part that very much wanted to.

Felix was perfect in every way to him.  He had his flaws, of course, but that just seemed to make Carver like him more.  And Carver didn’t even mind if they disagreed on things at all.  It was irritating at times, the debates, the sheer differences in their cultures, but he wouldn’t change Felix for the world.  Carver found he loved his smile, the way it brightened his eyes.  He loved how intelligent and inquisitive he was.  And he loved how Felix was willing to learn their ways, to be Avvar, and how he hadn’t pushed whatever it was the Chantry said on them as some lowlanders had tried to do.

Maybe it was just that.

Felix wasn’t Avvar, likely never would be – not that Carver wanted to change him.  One could be Avvar and still keep to their cultural upbringing if born outside the clans.  Nobody had issue with that.  Well, so long as it didn’t endanger the hold.  Carver saw no danger in Felix.  If anything, Carver saw growth for himself, the hold, and the lowlander.

Felix had been teasing about becoming Avvar, Carver knew, but the thought of it persisted.  Maybe it was that: having something that he could never have.  Felix would leave sometime in the spring or summer and that would be that.

Why would someone like him want to be Avvar?  Would want to stay among “barbarians” and live as they did?  Why would he want to stay in a place so different from his home, love or not?

Carver’s stomach twisted.

Was that what this was?  Love?

He’d never had much luck in that area, and his temper had no place in it if he was to encourage that little spark.

Carver still scoffed at himself.  He’d argued with himself over this so many times his head hurt.  He’d known the man less than a year.  There was no way he could have fallen in love with him.  Carver cared for him, he knew that for sure.  But a part of him wasn’t willing to believe he’d started loving him beyond a friend.  Though, his dreams, thoughts, and desires often seemed to prove him wrong on that account.

He wasn’t sure if it was the note of concern and care or if it had been the lowlander’s gentle touch that had set him off last night, but his actions had been inexcusable.  Felix deserved better than what Carver had shown him, and Carver was determined to make it right.  How, he wasn’t sure.

Would Felix accept simple words?  The pleading of his heart if Carver could truly bring himself to let the walls around his heart crumble?  Or would the lowlander demand action?  Or, Carver thought in dismay, would Felix ask Carver not speak to him again?  Carver wouldn’t blame him if that were the case.

Carver rubbed the back of his neck in shame as a heavy sigh left him.

_Lady, how do I fix this?_

A familiar chuckle hit his ears and he suppressed a groan as he turned to meet someone he truly did not want to encounter right now.

_That’s not helpful, Lady._

“The thane not satisfy you, little Hawke?” Rorik smirked as he strode up to him.

Cathur followed close behind and Carver’s eyes narrowed at them both.

“I’m not in the mood, Rorik,” Carver glared.

“Ha!  I’d say not,” Rorik laughed as he reached a hand to grab at Carver’s crotch.  “Maybe you should give us a go?  See if we can satisfy your need?”

Carver grabbed Rorik’s wrist tightly and twisted it away from him.  Rorik hissed at the pain that bloomed up his arm and hand, meeting Carver’s gaze with venom.

“What do you want?” Carver said in a low, threatening voice.

“My, someone’s testy today,” Rorik taunted, gritting his teeth as Carver’s grip tightened.  “Someone shove a stick up your ass instead of their cock?”

Carver didn’t deign him with an answer as he let go of Rorik’s wrist and stepped back.  He refused to give Rorik satisfaction in this.

Carver knew if he showed any sign of weakness, Rorik and Cathur would run off and tell Karras about everything.  The three of them had been a thorn in Carver’s side for far too long, leaving passive threats in his ears ever since he’d brought Felix to the hold.  They’d been even worse now that Felix had been wandering the hold freely.

“Hmmm, maybe it wasn’t the thane you wanted?  That lowlander of yours turn you away.  Word has it the likes of you don’t find fondness in Tevinter.  You tell him you want to bury your cock in him and he turn you down?”  Carver must have given something away because Rorik smirked.  “Hmm, maybe I’ll have to get a taste of your lowlander, teach him a few things.  I’d like to see what all this fuss about.”

“You fucking stay away from him,” Carver snarled, his hands clenching into fists.

Yet it just seemed to embolden Rorik.

The bastard smiled darkly at him as he spoke, “What?  You’ve been fucking him in his tight ass of his for months now.  I think it’s time to pass him around to the rest of us.  Why don’t I go over there right now?  Bet he’d enjoy it.”

“If you so much as touch him—,” Carver growled, jabbing a finger into Rorik’s chest.

“Or you’ll what?  Fuck me too?  Make an honest man out of me?  Those are a lot of threats you’ve got.  Maybe we should settle this in the arena?  Huh?  Just you and me,” Rorik interrupted, eyes glittering.  “If I win, how about you renounce responsibility?  I can think of a number of people who could better care for him.  If you win…Well, I’m sure you’ll just be happy to go back to fucking him freely, hmm?”

Carver knew the bastard was baiting him, but his heart swelled with fury.

Rorik would take Felix straight to Karras.  God or not, they _would_ hurt him.  Carver had no doubt that Rorik meant what he said.  He’d seen a few mages dosed with magebane to keep them from fighting.  Felix was unequipped to fight against the likes of Rorik.  If they managed to stem his flow of magic, he’d be helpless.  The bastard would rape Felix, and if he knew Karras and his crew, they’d kill him when they were done.

Carver would fight a thousand warriors alone if it would protect Felix from that fate.

“You have fifteen minutes to meet me in the arena, Rorik,” Carver hissed, “Or I kill you here and now.”

“Half an hour,” Rorik smirked as he backed away.  “Don’t be late, Carver _Hawke_.  I’ll consider it a forfeit.”


	17. Cullen

Cullen sighed heavily as he spotted the love marks littering his neck in the mirror.  He touched them lightly as he paused in the middle of getting dressed.

“Damn it, Carver,” he grumbled.  “What is it with you and marking your lovers?”

He had no way of hiding the marks, at least not all of them.  Some of them were just too high on his neck, and he knew he’d get shit for it from the hold just as he always did when a lover left his home.  It was late enough in the morning there was sure to be at least a handful of people who had seen Carver leave.

Cullen wasn’t a shy man.  He’d wear a lover’s marks with pride.  But these weighed on his mind, a price and guilt attached to them.

The thane shook his head.

He’d deal with the snark as he always did.  There was no worrying over something that could not be changed.

It was almost as an afterthought as Cullen grabbed his red-lion vest and pulled it on instead of the fox pelt he’d originally thought to wear.  The lion’s dark-red mane had been sewn into the collar and shoulders of the vest and it brushed softly against his throat.  Much of the mane fell heavy down his back.  At least it would conceal most of the darker marks and he was grateful Thane Alistair of Stormhold had gifted it to him.

He checked himself over, ensuring he had everything before his patrol through the hold.  When everything appeared in order, Cullen opened the door and stopped at Felix’s raised hand in mid-knock.

Cullen was surprised at first: one at Felix’s arrival, the second as he took in the brown furs and hide that covered his legs.  He still wore his tunic, but it was accented by the fur vest on his shoulders.  Cullen couldn’t remember a time he’d ever seen the lowlander in anything but his robes.

“Oh,” Felix’s eyes widened, startled.

“Felix,” Cullen inclined his head, attempting to erase the sudden tension that filled his shoulders at seeing him and hid it with a smile.  “What can I do for you?”

Felix stood there a moment, a growing lack of surety in his eyes.

“Is everything alright?” Cullen asked then.

“I, uh,” the lowlander wavered, the tip of his boot digging into the ground nervously, “I was wondering if you’ve spoken to Carver lately.  He’s not been himself, and…I was wondering if maybe you could talk to him?  He doesn’t seem too inclined to talk to me.”

“Ah,” Cullen nodded.  _Carver, I’m going to kill you._

Felix looked at him expectantly and Cullen shut the door behind him as he stepped out into the sunshine.

“Walk with me,” the thane stated with no room for argument, earning him a confused look from Felix.

Yet the man followed him nonetheless.

“Speak your mind,” Cullen said as they moved through the hold, testing – _hoping_ – Carver had at least tried to talk to Felix before Felix had set upon him.  “You say Carver has not been himself?”

“Yeah, he…Well, he snapped at me last night out of the blue, to be honest,” Felix replied quietly.  “I know something has been bothering him for weeks, and I thought maybe he would open up eventually, and he just…I don’t know.  Maybe I was wrong.  It’s just…He left the hut last night and then didn’t return home.”

Cullen sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering, “Honestly, the two of you are going to be the death of me.”

He wondered if maybe Carver had missed him, had tried going straight home to explain himself and Felix had already left.  It was a weak hope, but it was better than outright voicing his irritation with his friend.

“Thane?” Felix drew his attention again.

Cullen sighed again.  “It is not my place to divulge the fears or words of my warriors given in confidence that they would not be repeated, lowlander.  But I do wish Carver had…He was supposed to speak with you this morning.”

“So you’ve spoken to him already?” Felix’s brows knitted as he looked up at him.

“Carver came to see me last night after what transpired between the two of you.  He gave me his word he would make amends and tell you the truth of the matter.”

Autumn wind passed through the hold and ruffled the mane around his shoulders.  Felix’s eyes froze on a spot on his neck before he looked quickly at the ground, pink coming to his cheeks and turning his head away before Cullen could adequately catch his expression.  It took him a second to realize where Felix’s gaze had fallen, and his fingers brushed against the red and purple bruises that dotted his neck in the wake of Carver’s teeth.

“Felix, we did’t—,” Cullen began before someone shouted their way.

“Thane Liontooth!  Ah, I was hoping we would catch you.  We have quite a catch for the hold!” the fisherman boomed happily, a heavy basket against his back filled to the brim with fish.  “Seems the gods are still blessing us.”

Four other fishermen followed him.

Cullen put on a smile and greeted them in kind.  “I am pleased to hear that, Garen.”

The fishermen waved as they passed and once again he was alone with the lowlander.

“It’s my understanding a legend-mark is given for a great deed,” Felix said as he changed the subject quickly, his face a mask.  “How did you receive yours, thane?”

Cullen met Felix’s eyes and accepted the change even though it weighed on him.  One thing he’d discovered about Felix was he was just as stubborn as any Avvar he’d ever met.

_You owe me, Carver._

“It isn’t really an exciting story,” Cullen replied.

“Liontooth sounds rather ominous,” Felix countered.

Cullen chuckled at that, “Aye, fair point.  You will have to forgive me, though.  I am not as skilled in storytelling as our skald, but I’ll do my best to not make it boring.  Our hold-beast is a lion.  I don’t believe you’ve gotten to meet her yet.”

Felix shook his head and waited patiently.

“I was sixteen when I received it,” Cullen said, thinking back to the foolishness of his youth.  “Our hold-beast, Sorcha, had an infected tooth that our augur was going to pull, but in order to remove it our augur needed to dose her with sedatives and healing potions to prevent the infection from spreading.”

“Makes sense,” Felix commented simply as they moved around a cart.

“Yes, well the bet that followed certainly did not,” Cullen snorted.  “I was foolish and chose to take the dare.  My friends hadn’t meant for anyone to try it, but…I have always been a bit stubborn and I am a man of my word.”  He paused a moment.  “The bet was to see if anyone could remove the tooth before the augur and get away with it unscathed, so naturally I accepted.”

He neglected to mention it was a certain Garrett Hawke that had challenged him, but that was one more Hawke he didn’t particularly want to think about for the moment.

“You didn’t!” Felix exclaimed, wide-eyed.

Cullen laughed.  “Aye, I did.  I think the only reason I got as far as I did was because Sorcha was already so drugged and had been dozing when I’d snuck up on her.  The augur walked in right as Sorcha was chewing on my arm.”  He raised his right arm, scars littering it from years of fighting.  “A tooth caught me there, but it wasn’t bad.  Mostly she was just checking the feeling of her missing tooth, nothing more.  She never intended to hurt me.”

“Maker,” Felix breathed as he rubbed his forehead.  “You all are truly mad.”

Again Cullen’s laugh bellowed over the hold.  “Aye, we might be.  As I said, it’s not an impressive story.  Initially, the legend-mark was a joke, but I’ve carried it with pride.”

Felix laughed alongside him after a moment, the smile reaching his eyes.

“You’re bluffing,” Felix declared.

Cullen returned his smile.  “You have obviously never played cards against me.  I’m told I lie terribly.”

That elicited a light chuckle from the lowlander.

“Thane!”

Cullen turned and spotted Colban running towards him, face urgent.

The smile fell from his lips as he replied, “What’s happened?”

“It’s Carver,” Colban said in a rush, out of breath from his run.  “He’s been challenged.”

 _What’s that bloody fool gotten into this time?_ Cullen thought before he started off towards the arena, his voice demanding as he spoke, “What’s this about?”

Colban’s eyes wavered to Felix, uneasiness there.

“Speak,” Cullen ordered.

Colban swallowed but replied, “Rorik challenges him over the lowlander.  I don’t know more, I’m sorry.”

“What have I got to do with this?” Felix asked, a note of fear in his voice.

“I think I have an idea,” Cullen grumbled as the arena came into view.

If Rorik was involved, he knew it couldn’t be anything good.  And if this was about Felix, as Colban had said, Cullen had a sinking feeling that this was more than just Carver snapping at the insults Rorik and others had spat his way.

No, if it had been an insult or disagreement, they likely would have come to him.  Maybe asked for the Test of the Lady, not the arena.

This was something more and Cullen didn’t like the sinking feeling that lay heavy in his gut.


	18. Felix

The arena was a pit both naturally formed and dug into the side of the cliff.  A tall, strong fence blocked the drop off the mountain and wound its way around the pit itself to block it off from the crowd.  Seats had been carved into the stone of the mountain and it was already mostly filled with the clan, loud from their murmuring.

Felix followed Cullen and the hunter Colban to a high spot separated from the rest of the clan.  Whether it was a spot solely for the thane, Felix didn’t care.  His eyes scanned the field until they fell over Carver at one end of it, a massive two-handed blade nearly as tall as Felix lying on a table near him.  From this distance, Felix could see Carver tightening the leather gauntlets on his forearms, his eyes boring into the man across the field from him.  Felix didn’t think he’d ever seen such malice in his eyes.

“Where is his second?” Cullen asked Colban.

“He refused one,” Barris replied as he joined them in the thane’s pulpit.

“What the fuck do you mean he refused a second?” Cullen snarled, standing tall before Barris who did not back down from the thane’s agitated state.

“He refused both Barris and me,” Colban stated, drawing the thane’s attention.  “He said he wouldn’t take one, even if you offered yourself.”

Cullen ran a hand through his blond curls, growling in frustration and irritation.  “If Rorik doesn’t kill him, I will.”

“I’m not expecting Rorik to play fair,” Barris commented.  “He’s got Cathur as his second.  Bastard wouldn’t know a fair fight if the Mountain Father threw him off the mountain Himself.”

“Will someone please explain to me why Carver is doing this?” Felix begged as Carver drew his blade from its sheath, hefting it as if it were weightless.

“For you,” Barris replied.

“I gathered that,” Felix snapped.

“Because Rorik threatened you,” Colban said then.  “He was seething, so I’m assuming it wasn’t those passive remarks that lot’s been making about you.  Carver refused to tell me what the bastard said.”

“The only thing I’ve gathered was the terms are over the lowlander’s place in the hold in relation to Carver’s oath,” Barris supplied and Cullen’s jaw worked.

“Then why not just tell me?  They’re nothing but fools.  If they have a problem with me, then it should be me out there.  I can take care of myself.”

Cullen sighed.  “It is his responsibility as your protector.”

“I didn’t ask him to be,” Felix argued as Carver’s opponent – Rorik, he remembered them saying – charged him.

The hunter’s twin blades twirled as the man spun in the air, jumping over Carver as the warrior swung his blade where Rorik once stood.

“Carver claimed responsibility for you, Felix,” Cullen said, amber eyes hard.  “To our people, that means that he will protect you with his life, supply you with a place to stay and food to eat, and take punishment for any crime you commit against the clan as if it was his hand that dealt it.  We do not take these things lightly.  By law, Carver is required to face any challenge placed against you in combat.”

Felix reeled back at the thane’s words, struggling to process the information.

Was this like a blood-oath?  Really something this serious?

“Can’t you stop this foolishness?” Felix asked, terror filling his chest as he watched Carver barely dodge from Rorik’s blades.

Cullen shook his head, “A challenge like this is a fight to the death, Felix.  If it weren’t over his responsibilities, it’s possible I could.  I’m sorry.”

Felix’s breath caught in his chest as his eyes fell back on the battle before them.

Carver was risking his life for him and he was equal parts terrified and furious.

The clang of metal echoed off the mountain as the two men clashed.  Neither bore any armor save for their gauntlets, only clothed in their trousers, barefoot against the sand, dirt, and stone of the arena.  Rorik snarled as Carver’s sword nicked his hip, the two-hander moving into a wide arch to Carver’s right before the warrior pressed into the hunter again.

“Felix, breathe,” Cullen said, taking his elbow in his hand gently but firmly, steadying him as Felix shook slightly.

Felix let out a ragged breath, his lungs burning.  He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath as he met the thane’s eyes.

Cullen’s eyes softened a fraction at the terrified look he knew was in his eyes.  “Carver will win this.  I’ve seen him fight far worse than the likes of Rorik.  Do not doubt him.”

“Anything can go wrong,” Felix breathed.

Cullen sighed but pursed his lips, his gaze falling back to the battle.

Carver knocked one of Rorik’s blades from his grip before Rorik drew a crimson line across Carver’s chest where his peck met his abdomen.  Felix sucked in a breath as he watched Rorik press Carver back with quick strikes.

For such a tall, burly man, Carver was surprisingly nimble, Felix noted, as Carver bent nearly in half as he dodged a swing of Rorik’s remaining blade.  If Rorik hadn’t been as tall as Carver, he doubted Carver could have done that without taking some kind of damage.

Felix could already see the bruises forming on Carver’s skin as he took punches, pommel hits, and kicks from the hunter, yet not once more did the hunter draw blood.  He came close several times, but each time Carver dodged, parried, or blocked.

Felix tried to ignore the tension in Cullen’s body next to him.  He could feel it feeding his own anxiety.

Another swipe of his blade and Rorik’s sword flew from his hand across the field.  The hunter tried to roll away towards his closer blade but Carver kicked him and sent him sprawling.  Felix’s fingers tightened in the furs of his pants as he realized Rorik clutched something in his hand before he watched the hunter lunged as Carver swung his sword, ducking under it, and jabbing the object into Carver’s side just above his right hip.  Carver stiffened and staggered a half step back from the force before he elbowed Rorik full in the face.  Rorik slumped on the ground again, blood pouring down his face from his nose.  Carver took a step back and pulled a shard of metal from his side.  Felix could see the look of disgust on Carver’s face as the shard glinted in the sunlight as it fell to the ground.

“Cheating bastard,” Barris muttered.

Rorik slowly sat up and met Carver’s gaze.

The yell that passed from Carver’s lips echoed over the arena as the two-hander sliced through the air and Rorik’s head rolled across the sand several paces before it came to a stop.  Swaths of Rorik’s blood painted Carver’s front as the hunter’s body fell to the ground.

From the distance between them, Felix could see Carver’s chest heaving and thought he saw a shiver run through his bleeding side.  He watched as Carver turned his attention towards Cathur and yelled at him angrily, but Felix couldn’t hear it over the clan’s roar of cheers.

Cullen breathed a sigh of relief and looked down at Felix.  “See.  I told you he’d win.”

Felix shook his head slightly, eyes never leaving Carver’s lips.  “He’s been poisoned.”

“How do you know that?” Colban asked before the thane could.

“He just yelled at Rorik’s second.  I read his lips,” Felix said as he turned his gaze with purpose to the thane.  “He asked if Cathur was going to poison him, too.”

Cullen’s jaw clenched and he nodded, turning to the warriors at his side, “Speak of this to no one.  The bastards are too clever for their own good.  They know poisons are forbidden in a challenge.  If Carver’s been poisoned, there is a plan in motion and I do not like being left in the dark.”

“Thane,” Barris and Colban said at once, their loyalty clear on their faces as they hid any sign of what had transpired behind masks.

“Felix, with me,” Cullen ordered, “Colban, find Bethany.”

The thane led the way down to the arena’s massive wood door, his face a show for the hold so as not to alarm them.

“Well fought,” Cullen said as Carver joined them.

Barris took Carver’s blade as he congratulated him as if nothing was wrong.

Felix could see the trimmer in Carver’s side where Rorik’s hidden blade had pierced him.  One look into Carver’s eyes told him all he needed to know.

 “Let’s get you cleaned up,” Felix said, trying not to show his worry any more than he already had.

He drew on his practice in the Game to hide.  These people would not have any more victories in torturing his stay.  Felix would not let them have this satisfaction.

Cullen spoke casually to some hunters nearby about getting Rorik’s body ready for burial, but Felix tuned it out.  He lowered his offered arm of support when Carver gave him a barely concealed shake of the head.

Felix replied with a slight nod.

Carver’s jaw was clenched and his nostrils flared as Cullen, Barris, and Felix escorted him through the hold and well-wishers towards Carver’s home.  Felix could see him hiding the limp in his step as he returned greetings and thanks to those who congratulated him for his victory.

 _Cullen can take a number on killing him,_ Felix grumbled to himself, both furious with Carver and worried to the point his stomach was knotting.

As soon as they stepped into the hut, Barris shut the door and stood near it, watching through the slats of the window shutters to warn them of anyone’s approach.

 “What the hell were you thinking?” Cullen growled as Carver turned and faced him.

“He made a threat I couldn’t ignore, Cullen.  It was my decision to make.”

“So you let him bait you?  Rorik isn’t known to stand his ground with threats.  You should have come to me about this.”

Carver met his gaze defiantly.

“Damn your stubbornness,” Cullen said through gritted teeth as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Look, I don’t care what happened or how it happened,” Felix growled at them.  “He’s bleeding all over the floor.  I think the wounds make a more pressing issue here than who started what.”

Carver glanced at him before he sighed and let Felix force him to sit at the table.

“Hold this,” he said as he pressed a cloth to the bleed on Carver’s side.

Carver obliged him with a grunt of pain at the touch as Felix pulled over a bowl of water and it steamed at a flick of his wrist.

“Will you at least tell me how all this started?” Cullen asked, ignoring Felix’s irritated look.

Carver’s eyes leveled on Felix as he worked for a fraction of a second before he turned back to his thane.

“He challenged me for responsibility and I couldn’t let that pass,” Carver said, rage flashing through his sky-blue eyes like lightning that nearly made Felix flinch.

The words weren’t given towards him, but he felt their sting as Carver’s rage pulsed off him in waves.

“And you don’t get pissed off like this over something like that,” Cullen argued, “Honor-bound or not, this isn’t like you.”

“I don’t need to explain myself.”

Cullen took a step forward and Felix reached out and grabbed his arm on reflex, his breath catching at the thane’s icy stare.  It took all of Felix’s will to not shrink under his stare and to keep his grip on the warrior’s arm.

“Stop antagonizing and help,” Felix said evenly before he removed his hand and rummaged around for some herbs to draw out the poison in Carver’s blood.  When he returned, he glared at Carver, “And you stop being stubborn.  Just answer the damn question.”

Carver regarded him, pain flashing across his face though Felix recognized it wasn’t just mere physical pain.

Felix opened his mouth to speak but Carver gave a heavy, weary sigh and said, “Rorik threatened to rape you.”

He froze where he stood, searching Carver’s face.  His hand shook slightly before he turned, busying himself with the herbs as he ground them into a mortar.

“He said that?” Felix said, his voice wavering.

Carver looked away and ran a hand through his hair as he made a disgusted noise.  “Felix, please, do not make me repeat his words.  They are vile on my tongue as is.”

Felix pursed his lips and nodded, regretting asking.

That was something he had never been threatened with and the thought flipped his stomach.  He took a steadying breath, reminding himself that he was a mage.  He could fight back.  He wasn’t helpless.

“Who heard?” Cullen asked then.  “Were there witnesses?”

“Cathur seemed to agree with his sentiment,” Carver said with a wave of his hand, eyes downcast at the floor, “We were out near Helgi’s stalls when he’d stopped me…I don’t really remember if anyone was there.  I’m sorry.  I’m still seeing red from that conversation.”

Cullen gave a curt nod, “Very well.  Felix!”

Felix looked up at Cullen’s warning voice and he froze but a second as Carver teetered in the chair.  His arms shot out immediately, steadying him.  He couldn’t help but notice the tremor in Carver’s shoulder that matched the one in his side where the stab wound bled through the cloth.

“Carver?” the thane said tentatively before Carver’s eyes rolled into the back of his head.

Felix’s breath hitched as he fell to his knees under Carver’s weight, the chair skidding across the floor.

Cullen was in front of them immediately, helping straighten Carver onto his side as the warrior shook.

“I think you were right about that poison, Felix,” Cullen said quickly.  “Barris, the mortar.”

Barris moved across the room quickly, handing the thane the mortar before helping to keep Carver on his side.  Cullen pressed the contents into the wound before stemming the flow of blood with the cloth again.

 _Pulse too quick, breath too short, rigid,_ the spirit inside Felix’s head murmured to itself.  _Not good, not good.  Adder?  No, no blackened veins…Death lily?_

Felix struggled to tune the spirit out as he tried to listen to Cullen, hoping to be of use as Carver lay bleeding on the floor.  He took a deep breath, barely thinking as he touched Carver’s side near Cullen’s hand, magic flaring to life around his hand and flowing like water over Carver’s skin.  The tremor grew in force under his hand, traveling up through Carver’s chest and he made a choked sound.

 _Too hot.  Fever,_ the spirit continued to buzz.

“Get some leather before he bites off his tongue,” Cullen said hurriedly and Barris pulled off his belt and worked it into Carver’s mouth, holding him steady.

“Crystal grace isn’t going to help this,” Barris said to the thane, eyes wide.

 _Quit stuttering and just do something_ , Felix begged the spirit as it listed off symptom after symptom in his head.  _You’re supposed to heal._

_If I were not bound to you as I am, I could._

Felix gave a frustrated growl, not realizing he’d spoken aloud.  “Then pass from me to him, damn it.”

Cullen looked at him suddenly, his expression shifting through a hundred emotions Felix barely registered.

 _Use my magic if you have to,_ Felix nearly cried, _Just do something.  Don’t let him die._

Sharp pain splintered down his arms as his mana surged and blackness filled the corners of his eyes.

The door burst open and Bethany stormed in.  Fury fell from her face as her eyes fell across her brother’s prone form before she dropped to her knees beside Cullen, her magic bursting from her like the sun.

She barked orders and Colban rifled through the bag on her shoulder before rushing around the room to do as she asked – balms, herbs, tonics, Felix lost track.

Pain in his chest bloomed before his magic gave way and dissipated, his vision blurred as he looked to Bethany.

 _I am sorry, Felix,_ the spirit said, _Your body cannot handle my magic surging through you as you are._

 _I will not just sit and be useless_ , he said, trying but failing to bring forth his magic again.

_No, but you will die, and I will not allow that.  Carver has made his choice.  We must trust in others now._


	19. Felix

“Barris, I think you’ve done all you can for now,” Cullen said.  “Be my eyes and ears in the hold.  I want to know exactly what’s going on.”

As Barris left Colban asked, “Do you think this was planned?  Rorik’s always backed down from a fight, especially against Carver.  Think Karras put him up to this?”

Cullen ran a hand over his mouth, eyes calculating.  “I don’t want to jump to conclusions until I have all the facts, but I’ve got this sinking feeling in my gut.  We will need to tread carefully.”

Colban nodded but didn’t say another word as he stood watch at the window by the door.

Felix sat at the table, leg bouncing with anxiety.

Bethany had kicked them out of the bedroom after he and the others had helped her get Carver cleaned up and under the furs.  The glow of her magic still blazed from under the curtain.

He had offered to help, but even he knew he wouldn’t be much help with this.  Felix had never been proficient in healing magic – any magic before now – and he still hadn’t fully gained control of it like he so desperately wished he could right now.  About as much as he had done was slow the bleeding.  Neither his magic nor his body could keep up the flow of magic needed to save Carver.

“Thank you,” Cullen said and Felix looked up at him, realizing he was speaking to him.

“For what?”

“For the healing magic,” Cullen replied.  “I’ve seen it be the door between life and death too many times to count.”

Felix sighed heavily.  “I couldn’t do much.  My magic isn’t strong enough…I’ve barely mastered basic spells and he goes off and does this…”  He forced the sob that wanted to rise from his throat back down.

“Magic, no matter how weak, can help make that difference, Felix,” the thane stated firmly, “Do not doubt yourself or your magic.  You very well could have saved his life.”

The glow stopped and a few seconds later Bethany walked out to them and went to the wash basin.  Her shoulders shook and her head bobbed as she tried to keep from crying, scrubbing furiously at the blood on her hands.

Cullen gestured to Colban with his head toward the curtain and Colban nodded, disappearing from view quickly.  Then Cullen went to Bethany and stilled her hands.  Felix wasn’t sure if her shock had passed or if it was Cullen’s touch that broke the spell but Bethany choked on a sob, tears streaming down her face.

“You’re alright,” Cullen said gently as he laid her hands gently into the water and rubbed his fingers through hers and over her hands.  “It’s alright.”

“I can’t lose him,” Bethany cried softly.  “I can’t…First Garrett leaves and doesn’t come back and now…”

“Garrett will return,” Cullen said, making her meet his eyes, “and Carver will live.  He will.  He’s too stubborn to die.”

Bethany choked out a laugh and nodded, her lip wobbling.

Colban stepped out from behind the curtain, nodding to the thane.

Felix had expected a grieving look as a breath escaped his chest, but the hunter just seemed stoic as ever but with a shine of hope in his eyes.  Carver was alive – poisoned and dying – but still alive.  That’s all Felix cared about.

Colban returned to his spot by the window and Cullen forced Bethany to sit, placing a bottle of liquor in front of her which she drank heartily from before she slid it across the table to Felix.

“You look like you could use it about as much as I do,” she said, grimacing.

He took a drink, ignoring how it burned harshly down his throat.  After a while of passing the bottle back and forth, Cullen took a drink.

“If we can get his fever to break,” Bethany said at last, “It’ll help.  The poison will be out of his system soon enough but that…It’ll kill him by morning if we don’t…”

Cullen nodded, “Can you make ice?”

She shook her head, “I’m spent.  If I’d continued my healing magic, I’d have been lying in there with him.”

Cullen turned to Felix.

“I can try,” he replied, “but I can’t guarantee anything.  If anything, I might be able to make some existing water cooler until Bethany has replenished her mana.”

“Do it,” Cullen said and Felix stood, grabbing a cloth and the pitcher of water Colban had filled earlier and paused on his way to the bedroom.

“That box there,” Felix nodded in its direction, “Carver said there was lyrium in there.  It might help her.”

Cullen inclined his head once and reached for the box, tossing him a vial before returning to Bethany.

Carver was pale and his fingers twitched lightly where they lay on top of the furs that covered him.  Sweat made his dark hair cling to his forehead and his lips were an ashen color that made Felix’s stomach plummet.  Felix laid his burden on the nightstand and checked Carver’s pulse and breathing, both still erratic but at the very least still present.

Felix toyed with the lyrium in his hand a second before downing it, feeling it course through his veins almost immediately.  Then he put his hands on either side of the pitcher and concentrated as hard as he could, his mana flowing through him and into the pottery.  Frost magic was easier for him to produce than fire, though storm magic outweighed them both.  In this moment, he was grateful for it but scared that it wouldn’t be enough.

Cullen’s words filled his head, and Felix took a steadying breath and put faith in his abilities.  With Carver’s life on the line, that was the one thing he didn’t have the luxury in doubting.

The water rippled as his magic cooled it, pulses sharper as Felix steadied his emotions.  He held the flow of magic for a few more seconds before he released it and tipped his finger into the chill of the water.  It was cold enough it jarred through his finger bone and into his hand, skin prickling with goosepimples.

 _Well, they’d wanted it cold_ , Felix murmured as he braced himself before plunging the cloth and his hand into the frigid water.

He gritted his teeth against it as he rung it out and wiped it gently over Carver’s face, cleaning the sweat from his brow.  Then he dunked the cloth again and laid it gently across the Avvar’s forehead.

Felix watched Carver for a few seconds before he leaned down so his lips were near his ear, whispering, “You listen to me very carefully, Carver Hawke.  You are not allowed to die.  So help me, if you die on me I will rend the Veil itself to bring you back just to kick your arse.  Don’t you dare die on me.  Ok?”

His voice cracked when he finished, his eyes searching across Carver’s face, half-hoping for some sign the warrior had heard him, had understood.  Yet Felix was met with stillness just like before.


	20. Carver

Carver’s limbs were heavy as he woke.  His mouth tasted like ash and there was a dull burn in his side.  Hell, his whole body felt like a great bear had used him as a child’s plaything.

He groaned as he tried to swallow, remembering faintly the taste of iron in his mouth before he’d collapsed.

 _Bethany’s going to kill me,_ Carver sighed.  _If I’m not dead yet, she’ll do me in soon enough.  Poof.  Pile of ash.  No more Carver._

He opened his eyes and tried to lift his arm so he could rub the sleep from his eyes, but found it weighted and he looked down at what lay across it.  His eyes softened as he took in his lowlander sitting in a chair beside him, forehead resting against his forearm.  Felix had one hand resting against the crook of Carver’s elbow and his other beneath his chin to support his head better.  He could just barely feel the snuffling of his breath, shallow and even as he slept.

A small smile played at Carver’s lips as he lifted his other hand and raked it gently through Felix’s dark hair, reveling in the slight waves and how the candlelight reflected an array of reds, browns, and blues that complimented the glow of his copper skin.  Felix barely roused as Carver lay there content with the lowlander beside him.  If anything he seemed to relax.

His heart ached at the memories that played at his mind.  He had hoped to spare Felix the fight in the arena, had hoped to spare him from many of the problems the hold had in regards to Felix’s presence.  Yet he had failed him – no, nearly failed, he argued.  He was still alive.  They both were.

 _Curse your cheating soul, Rorik,_ he hissed.

Carver knew he should have seen it sooner, should have insisted on the fifteen minute wait, not Rorik’s half hour.  He should have known Rorik was playing him from the beginning.  They’d fought before and Rorik had always lost.  He should have known the bastard would resort to cheating and cowardice to ensure Carver died and left Felix vulnerable.  Carver hadn’t even noticed the poison until the sudden cramping in his hip and the tremors through his back and side.  He should have taken measures to combat it.  Rorik had always boasted about his proficiency in poison-making.  He should have known.

A ragged breath left him as he forced himself to calm down as the anger and fear boiled up again.

 _I’m alive,_ Carver thought to himself.  _I’m alive.  Felix is alive.  We’re both safe.  That is all that matters right now._

Carver turned his attention back to the lowlander beside him.  He wanted to savor the moment of Felix by his side a moment longer, but he was dying of thirst and his arm was heavy with sleep beneath the Tevinter’s head.

“Hey,” Carver said hoarsely as he ruffled Felix’s hair.  “Come on, sleepyhead.  Wake up.”

It took another few swipes but Felix inhaled sharply and scrunched his nose and eyes as he lifted his head groggily.  Felix blinked a few times, brows furrowed in confusion before chestnut met blue and he bolted upright in the chair.

“You’re awake,” Felix breathed, a mixture between shock and relief playing across his face.

“Aye, I’m awake,” Carver teased with a smile, “Thanks for returning my arm.  I kind of need that for barbarian stuff.”

Felix blushed as Carver flexed his fingers and arm, ignoring the shooting, needle-like pain that erupted in them.  Then something flashed across Felix’s face and he narrowed his eyes at Carver.

“You cheeky bastard,” Felix grumbled and Carver chuckled before wincing and gasping slightly at the pain.  “Try not move, you big oaf.  You’re still not out of the woods yet from that poison.”

Carver nodded slightly as he relaxed into the bed, noticing Felix’s scent envelop him from having slept there for so long.  He tried not to blush himself at that.

“Honestly, I swear,” Felix continued to grumble as he lifted the blankets and checked his wounds, likely needing something to do with his hands, “you’re absolutely ridiculous.  Fighting someone to the death over…Don’t do that again.”  Felix looked sharply at Carver but the Avvar noticed the sharpness was a mask for the worry just under the surface.

“Aye, my lowlander,” Carver said softly, covering Felix’s hand with his own where it lay against his stomach.  “I’ll try not to die again.”

“ _Try_ , he says,” Felix huffed, “You scared the piss out of me.  I thought that bastard was going to kill you.”

Carver ran his thumb across the soft skin of Felix’s hand.  “I’m a better fighter than you think I am, Felix.”

“That’s not…That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

 _I know_.  He squeezed Felix’s hand.  “At least I’m not boring.”

Felix rolled his eyes and took back his hand.  “You’re mad.  You’re all utterly mad.”

Carver chuckled softly, gentler this time.  “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

Felix jerked back, narrowing his eyes at him.  “I am not.”

“Are too,” Carver smiled and watched as Felix sputtered for words to protest.

“You’re delirious,” he grumbled at last and stood.

Carver grabbed his hand and Felix stopped, staring down at him.  His voice was raspy when he spoke, trying not the think about the duel and the many things it would have meant if he’d lost.  This was one thing he needed to do before anything else happened.

“I’m sorry,” Carver said quietly, “For what happened.  For scaring you with the duel.  For my anger the other night.  I wasn’t – It wasn’t – I will _never_ take my anger or frustration out on you again.  I swear it.  I…”  He sighed heavily.  “We will talk when I’m better.  There is much that needs to be said.”

Felix watched him, head tilting as he listened.  His expression was soft with concern.  Felix squeezed Carver’s hand as he pursed his lips, nodding.

Carver didn’t want to release his hand, but didn’t dare force Felix to stay as the lowlander slid his fingers from Carver’s grasp and walked to the curtain.  Carver watched him go, disappointed at seeing him leave but enjoying the view as he left. Carver would allow himself that much for now.

Felix glanced back at Carver and caught him staring.  The warrior swore he saw the man swallow before he parted the curtain and looked out into the other room.

“Bethany,” Felix said, “he’s awake.”

There was a pause and then a clatter as hurried feet padded across the floor to the curtain.  Carver barely had time to think half-heartedly _traitor_ at Felix before Bethany set upon him.

“Carver, how fucking dare you!” Bethany hissed through the tears in her eyes.  “You should have told me—”

“Aye, I know, I’ve heard it from Felix,” he half-lied.  “I promise not to run head first into a fight again.”

She snorted.  “You thinking before a fight?  Lady help me, you and Garrett are going to be the death of me.  You’re too blighted similar.”

Carver took her hand, letting her rant at him.

“I’m alive, Bethy,” Carver said gently.  “I’m ok.”

His sister wiped her eyes, sniffling, and he squeezed her hand.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Felix stated before he disappeared into the other room.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“My right leg feels a little numb and there’s a fire in my side,” he said honestly, “And my mouth tastes like ash.  Got any water?”

She nodded and conjured water in the mug next to the bed, helping to bring it to his lips so he wouldn’t spill it on himself as his hands shook.  It unnerved him a little that he couldn’t control the tick in his fingers.

“Make a fist,” she ordered after putting the mug back down and he did as she commanded, following her lead as she examined his reflexes.  “You’re muscles are slow.”

“Just a little stiff from sleep, that’s all,” he said simply.

“You have a tick in your hand, Carver,” she said pointedly, unimpressed.

“I was poisoned, Bethany,” he sighed.  “It’s going to take me a while to get back on my feet.”

“Don’t you think I know that?  I’ve been struggling to get it out of your system for days.  You know Rorik likes – liked – his poisons.  That whole lot does!  You should have come to me.  I could have given you something as a precaution.  Maybe you wouldn’t have…You weren’t breathing!”  She muffled a sob and looked away.

“You’re right.  I should have, but I didn’t and now I’m going to have to live with that.  I can’t change the past, Bethany.  None of us can.  If I could go back and change things, I would, but there’s no point in torturing ourselves over what we could have done differently.  I’m sorry.”

She nodded after a moment and let silence fall between them, letting a contentment form in each other’s company as Bethany took Felix’s seat and encompassing his hand in both of hers.

“How is he?” Carver asked quietly after a time.  “Felix?”

“He’s pushing through,” Bethany replied, matching his tone.  “He’s been worried sick about you.  We all have.”

He nodded.  “Anybody given him any problems?”

“No.  And even if anybody’s saying anything, it hasn’t reached our ears.  Felix hasn’t left the house much since your fight.”

“Do I even want to know how long I’ve been out?” he asked wearily.

“About four days.  Anya and Gretta have been helping me.  They’re the only ones Cullen trusted with this…at least, for right now.  Hold’s a mess.”  She sighed heavily.

“Cullen need any help?” he asked in concern.

“Oh, no, you are staying in this bed until you are fully healed,” Bethany growled.

“Bethany, the hold is already torn as is.  Cullen is going to need as many warriors as he can get if I know Karras – and I do.  This was only the beginning.”

She glared at him.  “You are not leaving this house to do something reckless again.  I won’t allow it.”

Carver sighed and went to speak but stopped as Felix returned, a bowl of something steaming in his hand.

“Here’s some soup if you think he can eat it, Bethany,” Felix said, passing it over to the mage who nodded in thanks.  Then Felix’s eyes went to Carver.  “And I’m with your sister on this.  It’s best to regain your strength if a battle is indeed coming.”

He sighed again and sunk into the bed, visibly sulking.  Of course he’d find two mother hens.

“And for the record,” Felix continued, “if you so much as try to sneak out, I will tie you to this bed myself.”

Carver’s eyes snapped up to Felix’s and he knew by the slight smirk in the lowlander’s eyes that he could see the blush that had bloomed across Carver’s cheeks.  That was not another image he needed playing in his mind.


	21. Felix

[Month: late Harvestmere, autumn]

Felix huffed as he pulled the scarf up over his nose.

 _Bloody cold mountains,_ he grumbled, _Maker, how do these people stand this place?_

Snow had already come in flurries off and on the past few days but none had stuck just yet.  The wind, though.  That was murder.

Felix felt like icy fingers were running down his spine.

If this was their autumn’s death throws, he dreaded their winters.

Felix sighed as he rested his head against the wall of the healers’ hut as he tried to remain patient.  He didn’t much like staying outside in the cold, but the healer who had agreed to help him had shooed him out.

He tried remembering her name.  Finna?  All he remembered was she didn’t much care for him.  Why she’d agreed to help Carver, he didn’t know.  Maybe it was that she cared for her own?  That seemed a common theme among the Avvar.

Felix wished Anya or Gretta had been free, but he knew he couldn’t be picky.  They were just as exhausted as Bethany.

“Here,” Finna said haughtily as she thrust a pouch into his hands, glass clinking inside.  “Red in the morning, Green at night.  The tea three times a day.  Do you think you can handle that?”

He ground his teeth but replied calmly, “I believe I can manage as much.”

She snorted but surprisingly didn’t slam the door behind her as she left him in the cold.

Felix shook his head, muttering, “What’s her problem?”  _I haven’t done anything to her._

“Don’t take it personally, lowlander,” a warrior said from where he sat on his doorstep across the path, “We’re all a little on edge.”

“Mind telling me why?” Felix asked.

The man glanced up at him as he wove strips of leather together, to what end Felix could only guess.

“I think you know the answer to that, lowlander.  You almost got one of our own killed – are responsible for the death of another.  Hold’s not going to forgive that.”

“I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Maybe not directly, but it’s because of you we’re down a hunter.  Rorik may have been a bastard, but he was one of us.  You aren’t.”

Felix stared at him, not knowing exactly how to reply.

Well, he knew how he wanted to.  He was tired of the hold blaming him for things beyond his control.  He didn’t ask for Carver to fight on his behalf, responsibility or not.  He didn’t ask for clansmen to threaten him for merely existing.

“You’ve brought nothing but trouble for the hold since you got here.  And one of these days,” the warrior continued, his hands working more roughly, “you’re going to get Carver killed.  The sooner you leave, sooner things go back to normal.”

“Carver’s not going to fight on my behalf anymore.  I can defend myself just fine.”

“You’d sooner have a knife in your gut before you cast a spell, little mage,” the man grunted.  “How many blades or arrows do you think it’ll take before Carver dies because of you?  If you don’t think he’s still going to be your shield, you’re a bigger fool than I thought.  You don’t know Carver, and you don’t know how we fight.  It’s only a matter of time before one of you are out for the birds.”

Felix’s fingers tightened around the pouch.

 _Easy, Felix,_ Health said, _He is not worth our time.  Best we get these to Carver and leave things be for now._

Felix could feel the spirit’s irritation at the warrior and it only fed into his own.  It took all of his will to not snap a reply at the Avvar before he turned and stalked away.

That was the third time in two days someone had warned him that his presence was going to get people killed.  Felix hated the idea of anyone dying for him.  He hated that Carver felt as if it _was_ his responsibility to die for him.  Stubborn man always deflected him every time he tried bringing it up.

What made Felix angrier was that the Avvar had a point.

Carver would continue to put his life in danger to protect him, to house him.  Even with all the training that had strengthened his magic, Felix knew he still wasn’t anywhere close to being able to take on any of the Avvar.  Bethany could roast him before he even pulled at the flow of his mana.  He doubted he could dodge a sword or arrow.  He’d never been trained for it.

Felix had preferred his books and studies over magical training and fighting.  Give him a good book or tome and he’d be content for hours studying theories or living vicariously their adventures.

But everything about the Avvar’s survival – how they lived, how they fought to protect themselves, how they supplied themselves to last the winter – it was all foreign to him.  Even with what little he had helped them with wasn’t enough for him to know how to survive on his own in this Maker-forsaken place.

Felix knew that the more hostile Avvar would have had a knife in his back long before now if it wasn’t for the fact he was possessed by one of their gods.  Andraste’s flaming bowl, sometimes he wished Carver hadn’t found him or had just left him to die.  The way the hold was making him feel, he felt like every little thing that had gone wrong had been because of him.

 _Felix,_ the spirit sighed, _This isn’t your fault._

 _I know,_ he grumbled, _but it doesn’t mean the sting is any less.  I’ve been nothing but respectful to them, tried not to be a burden.  Carver shouldn’t have…_ He growled in frustration.  _This is going to stop.  I’m tired of feeling useless, and I’m tired of the threats._

His mind swam with ideas.  The Avvar appreciated strength, deeds.  Each person had their place for the betterment of the clan.  Everyone was taken care of.

 _Those who cannot fight like the rest aren’t burdens, Felix.  The hold loves them just as much as their warriors.  Stop beating yourself up,_ Health replied.

A torch’s flames burst towards the sky as he passed and he took a deep breath, centering himself.

 _I will not lose control,_ Felix breathed, going over the mantra until he felt a relative calm.

Bethany and Health may have been teaching him how to control his magic, to fight with it if necessary, but he could not rely on his magic.  Templars, spell purges, magebane, a lucky plunge or nick of a blade could all make his magic moot or worse.  He needed something else to protect himself that didn’t involve Carver being a human shield and sword.

If he was going to develop other skills, he needed a teacher.

Felix’s thoughts flashed to Carver, the memory of his two-hander flying through the air as he fought Rorik.  If there was anyone in Skyhold he trusted, it was Carver.

“Teach me how to fight,” Felix said abruptly as he entered the hut.

He was determined to go through with this before his courage left him.

Carver looked up at him quizzically from where he sat by the fire mending a coat, the slight tremor in his hands persisting over the past couple of weeks still evident in the shake of the needle.  “You already know how to fight.”

Felix took a deep breath and met his friend’s eyes.

He’d thought long and hard about his life among the Avvar over the past months and just how vulnerable he was to their ways and the mountains.  It was a harsh place that had breed harsh people nearly as much as the kind he’d met.  Yet if he was going to make it through the winter with the Avvar, and if he was going to survive in a hold that was rife with plot and secrets, Felix was determined to adapt.

“I want you to teach me how to use a sword, or a bow, I don’t care.  Both, actually.  Both is good,” Felix replied.

Carver nodded slowly, clearly confused, “What brought that on?”

Felix was reluctant to say.

He didn’t want Carver to worry more than the man already did.  Carver had asked him from time to time if anyone had given him problems since the duel.  The one time he’d mentioned a particularly asinine comment, Carver had tried storming out of the hut to give the hunter a piece of his mind.

Felix chose a fraction of honesty.

“Look, I know things aren’t going well in the hold.  It’s tense and I know it’s not just because winter’s coming,” Felix said as he refused to show any faltering in his resolve, “And with what Rorik had threatened…I cannot rely on you – Don’t interrupt me, Carver,” he said as the man opened his mouth to speak.  “You can’t keep putting yourself in danger for me.  I’m not a child.  I don’t want to be treated like I can’t defend myself.  I mean, I know I can’t deflect a blade or cast a static cage.  I _know_ my abilities are limited, but I don’t need others fighting my battles for me.”

Carver remained silent as he listened intently, even remaining silent as Felix paused to gather his thoughts.

Felix just watched him, the anxiety resurfacing in his chest as it did whenever he thought of the battle Carver had fought on his behalf or the thought of the people in the hold who clearly wanted to do them harm.

 “In your condition, I cannot in good conscience ask…You are my friend, Carver.  I don’t want you dying for me.  I’d be rather cross with you if you did.”  Felix ignored the soft smile that played at the corners of Carver’s lips.  “My magic will never be as strong as someone like Bethany’s.  I came to terms with that a long time ago.  But I’ve got two hands, two arms.  I don’t care what you teach me just that you do.  I want to be able to have your back just as you have mine.”

“Alright,” Carver said quietly as he came to stand before him.

Felix paused, having half expected Carver to argue with him.  “Ok then.”

“When do you want to start?”

He just blinked at him.  “Ok, I was honestly expecting you to argue with me on this.”

“I want to,” Carver regarded him, “but I’ve known you long enough to know you’ve got your mind made up…And you’re not wrong.  It was never my intention to treat you like a child or like you were too weak to take care of yourself.  You are…special to me, and I didn’t want harm to come to you.  That is why I take care to ensure you remain safe.  If I came across otherwise, I apologize.  It was not my intention.”

Felix reached his hand out timidly and gently brushed his fingertips against the puckered scare at Carver’s hip.  It had taken a lot of magic to heal it, but he knew it still pained the warrior.

Carver’s skin shivered under his touch as he spoke.  “You nearly died because someone wanted to…You shouldn’t have had to.  I will not have people put themselves in harm’s way for me – no matter someone’s responsibility.  I can take care of myself.”

Carver sighed and took his hand from his hip.  “Felix, it’s not that I think you are incapable of defending yourself.  You don’t have to fight this, _shouldn’t_ have to.  The hold should know better.”

Felix shook his head and pulled away from the warmth that radiated off of the Avvar.  “I know.  I just…I’m a mage, but a terrible one.  I still want to be prepared in the event that something does happen.  Fighting has never really been an interest of mine, but I don’t want people protecting me if I cannot also protect the people I care about.  If you will not teach me, I can find someone else.  Cullen maybe…”

Carver searched his face for what felt like an eternity before he nodded.  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t teach you, Felix.  I just…If this is what you want, I will gladly do it.”  Carver’s eyes roamed over him a moment.  “Though, there might be more to it than you’re expecting.  Are you strong enough to,” he waved his hand, clearly struggling to find the right words.

Felix almost laughed.  “Am _I_ strong enough?  You’re the one who’s still healing from that duel.  Maybe it _would_ be a better idea to seek out Cullen.  I didn’t think this through.”

It was Carver who laughed in response.  “Right, I forgot about that.  No, it’ll be good for the both of us.  Sitting around here all day is making me fat anyway.”

Felix rolled his eyes and Carver just smiled.

“We’ll start in the morning.  See what the both of us can handle.  At least a little bit of training is better than none.  Now what is it you’ve got there?”

Felix looked down at the pouch in his hands and handed it to Carver.  “Medicine.  Courtesy of Finna.”

Carver winced.  “How bad was she?”

“Nothing worse than usual.”

The warrior shook his head.  “I’m sorry.   You’re not really seeing us at our best.”

“That’s alright.  I’ve already come to the realization you’re all just uncivilized barbarians anyway.”

Carver chuckled at Felix’s joking tone before he said, “Why don’t you help me make supper?  Maybe we can _not_ burn down the hut this time, ser mage.”


	22. Carver

[Month: Firstfall, winter]

“He’s a fast learner,” Cullen said as he leaned against the fence.

Carver stood on the other side, drinking heartily from a waterskin.  He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, half turning to look back at Felix as he spoke.

“Aye, he is, but he tires just as fast.  Tries to hide it, but I can see right through him.”

“As do you,” Cullen nodded as he continued to watch Felix as he struggled to lift a small log.  “Strength training.  Good place to start for him.  Wish we’d thought of it sooner.  Therapy can do wonders for an illness or injury.”

Carver eyed the thane, wondering just how much Cullen could see through him too.  He was tiring almost as quickly as Felix thanks to the poisoning.

Even he wished they’d started Felix on something like this sooner, not necessarily to train him to fight, but to help him regain his strength after being bedridden and sickly.

“We’ve worked a bit on his sword technique, but this is more of my concern for the moment,” Carver stated simply.

“The poison damaged your nerves,” Cullen commented casually as a tremor ran down Carver’s right leg.  “Sure you should be doing this?  You’re pushing yourself pretty hard.”

Carver shook his head and took another drink.  “Karras isn’t going to wait forever to make a move.  The taint’s almost done.  I don’t expect him to wait barely a second after Felix completes the ritual before he tries to kill him.  It’ll make me feel better if Felix has a sword in his hand.”

“He may need that sword before we’d like.”

Carver’s blue eyes grew sharp as he drew them away from the beads of sweat that trickled down Felix’s exposed back to his thane.  “Karras?”

Carver had chastised him for removing his shirt due to the cold, but even Carver had to admit that the overexertion had been enough to remove his own.  Of course, Carver was used to the mountains.  He knew perfectly well Felix wasn’t.

“He’s been a little too quiet for my liking,” Cullen shrugged.  “He wasn’t particularly in a good mood last I saw him.  Looked rather pissy that you were still alive and walking.  Probably knows about this by now.”

Carver nodded at that, muttering, “I fucking bet.”  Then louder, “I’m surprised he hasn’t just gone directly for Felix.  Lowlander’s gotten bold.  Said he’d take on the next challenger if it came to that.”

Carver hadn’t been happy at that admission.  The thought of Felix, untrained, in the arena fighting someone who has had a blade in their hand since before they could crawl churned his stomach.  Yet no manner of debate had swayed his lowlander.  As Bethany had put it, the two of them were both stubborn when it came to protecting their friends.

“Karras may be a dirty bastard, but he won’t risk the hold losing a god – or suffering at the wrath of one.  He won’t strike until after the two are free from each other.  That I know for certain.”

“Numbers?”

“Karras and Cathur for sure.  Maybe half a dozen others are suspect.  Heard Helgi’s on the fence, but I know he’s voiced blame on Felix for Rorik’s death and your wound.  I’ve got Barris and Colban looking into things.  Rylen offered his help.  He likes the lowlander.  Branson, too.  He’s supposed to talk to Dubne for me.”

Carver nodded at that.  He trusted Rylen and Branson.  Dubne was cocky, but he was loyal to the thane and had often joked with Felix, usually to make the lowlander blush a pretty shade.

“You’re sister did suggest something though,” Cullen continued.  “Mages are stronger when they have a god allied to them.  Korth’s teeth, your brother nearly killed half the raiders on his own last time Wyrmhold attacked us.  Beth offered to teach Felix if the lowlander’s willing.”

“You want to turn him into a Fade warrior?  He’s only just gotten used to the fact he’s not an abomination, and you want to ask him to willingly take in a god in battle?  Release his senses so that the two are one?”

Carver couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  If Felix had been born Avvar, he wouldn’t have thought twice about this.  But over the months he’d known Felix, he knew the man was still uncomfortable with just how close the gods – spirits, as Felix knew them – and the Avvar were.  He still remembered the uneasiness and trepidation Felix had had after his visit with the augur.  Carver was afraid that suggesting Felix become a Fade warrior – a battle-mage that willingly allowed themself to be possessed during battle, utilizing all that the god had to offer in tandem with their own abilities, allowing themself to be magnified by god and Fade alike – would push Felix away.

“I would not ask it if his life wasn’t in danger,” Cullen said simply.  “I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I wish Garrett was still here.  He’d be a stronger teacher for Felix if the lowlander does accept that path.  Beth doesn’t have nearly the experience he does.  But…I don’t know.  There are many paths to take, and I am uncertain where they will all lead.”

Felix hefted the log off his shoulders, breathing heavily as he stared down at it.

“Ask him.  If he accepts, then Bethany will join you in training him.  If not…We will go from there.  This is at least a good place to start.”

Carver sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair.

They stood and watched Felix for a time before Cullen spoke again.

“I take it things are alright between you two?”

Carver swallowed.  _Of course, he would ask me about that._

He felt guilty as he answered, knowing what Cullen would say, knowing what he’d meant.  “I’ve apologized, but I haven’t…There hasn’t been a good time.  He’s still pissed at me for almost dying.  I don’t know if…It wouldn’t be received well right now.”

This time it was Cullen who sighed.  “You won’t know if you do not tell him.  Are you even going to?”

Carver nodded. “I will.  I gave you my word I would, and I…I have tried to broach the subject with him about that night, but he…He changes the subject every time.  I’ll give him his space.  Let him calm down.  I can’t blame him for being angry.  I go and snap at him and then almost get myself killed for him.  His anger is not subtle.”

Cullen watched Felix as he moved, cocking his head in thought.  Then he stepped away from the fence, “Call it a day before the two of you wear yourselves out.  Snows are coming tonight.  No need catching something with him getting better.”

Carver listened to the thane’s retreating steps as he watched Felix train.  His fingers trailed over the runes on his right arm, remembering the prick of the needle and thread as it was pulled through his skin, the burn of the lyrium and ink.

For a few minutes more Carver weighed his options before he called to Felix.  He was not looking forward to this conversation.


	23. Felix

“You want me to willingly get possessed,” Felix said utterly perplexed at the notion, his fingers twirling over each other, “to fight in battle.  You’re joking?”

Bethany quirked her eyebrow at him.  “Is that such a difficult concept?  Many of us do so if the battle requires.”

Felix knew his mouth was hanging open but he didn’t care.  These people really were mad!

First they possess their mages to train them, and now they do this?

“But how do you not become abominations?  It doesn’t make sense.”

She nearly snorted in response.  “Just as much sense as being possessed for an average of twenty years so I don’t burn the hold down.”

Felix couldn’t argue with that, he knew, even if it still didn’t make much sense to him.  He’d argued with Bethany after his meeting with the augur over that bit of news.  It had startled him – scared him – to know that the Avvar willingly became abominations in order to learn to control their magic.

No, not abominations, something else entirely.

Yet every mage he encountered in the hold had gone through the same experiences of possession and release and all could control their magic as well as any Circle mage he’d ever known, perhaps even better.

He’d only accepted training as the Avvar did because he didn’t have a choice.  Felix was already possessed.  He was losing control of his magic.  What other choice did he have other than hurt those around him as his magic grew more unstable?

“Is it so different from setting your mages against demons to prove they can control themselves?” Bethany asked.

“That’s different—,” he clamped his mouth shut as she looked at him pointedly.

Right.  They’d had that argument already.

“You’re baiting me,” Felix glared and Bethany merely smiled back knowingly.

Even though his magic hadn’t been much, he’d still gone through the Harrowing to appease his father and the Chantry.  The desire demon he’d met had made an enticing offer of strengthening his magic, but he’d declined, content with the knowledge he’d never be like his childhood friend or his parents.  He was quite content studying math, literature, art, anything he could get his hands on.  Yet this…He often didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he had been curious to see what his life would have been like having a teacher like Bethany had.

But this was almost too much.

“If it helps,” Bethany continued after a moment, “A Fade warrior is a specialization, but it is not necessarily exclusive to mages.  Many of our warriors and hunters have bonded with the gods before a battle.  Admittedly, it wasn’t always with the training of a Fade warrior, but it still counts.  Each of them have come back to themselves just fine.  There’s nothing to be afraid of.  Carver, you tell him.”

“Uh uh, this was your idea,” Carver said stubbornly from where he leaned against the far wall, his arms folded over his chest.

“Yes, but you’ve had experience with this just as much as I have.  Ok, maybe not as much, but I can count the number of times you’ve bonded on my hand,” his sister argued.

Felix’s eyes shot to Carver.

He’d been possessed?  Carver didn’t look like it.  But, of course, none of them really looked like it.

At another pointed look from Bethany, Carver sighed and caved.  “It’s really not as bad as it sounds, Felix.  I’m not denying that there are dangers to it, but I’ve never felt threatened by any of the gods that have been bound to me.  Really the only thing you have to worry about is if you and the god are bound for too long.  The augur of Stormhold learned that the hard way.”

Bethany nodded.  “It’s not like the ritual that binds a god to a mage to teach them how to control their magic.  That’s very specific.  There are rules.  This is temporary, quick, sometimes in the heat of a battle.  Staying any longer without the right bridges to the Fade and here can be dangerous, I will not deny that.  But the gods will not stay if you revoke consent, Felix.  In that you have no need to fear.”

“Oh yes, like a demon has ever respected someone’s consent,” Felix grumbled.

“They are not demons—”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Felix interrupted Bethany before she could go into another rant about how their gods weren’t demons.  His eyes lifted to Carver again, “Is it true?  You’ve been possessed before?”

Carver nodded as he gave a shrug.  “A few times, yes.  Each time when the battle was done, they left without a fuss.  The gods don’t want to permanently possess anyone, Felix.  They will offer their aid temporarily, but they will never take more than what someone offers – and often then the god will make conditions that the host does not take more than the god is willing to give.  The respect for autonomy is mutual.”

 _They are right, you know,_ the spirit in Felix’s head finally chimed in, _We do not seek to own a mortal vessel like demons do.  But we also cannot abide sitting on our proverbial thumbs while our people are slaughtered or crimes go unpunished._

 _You’re not helping,_ Felix muttered.

The spirit chuckled.  _Perhaps not, but you have no reason to fear what Bethany offers.  A Fade warrior has been known to turn the tide of a battle, and you have at least one of us who would be willing to come to your aid if you so ask it of us.  We like you._ The spirit paused.  _There are those who move against you and the thane in the hold.  They are unjust.  We would see their plots spoiled._

Felix sighed heavily as he eased the tension between his brows with a rub of his fingers.

Dorian would kill him for even considering such a thing.  Andraste’s blood, his father would probably come back from the Fade to chastise him if he agreed.  Everything he’d ever been taught told him to refuse this, yet he trusted the twins before him.  He knew they wouldn’t offer something that would put him in danger.

 _Perhaps a demonstration?_ the spirit suggested.

“You can’t be serious?” Felix replied.

“Felix, I’m not joking,” Bethany said with a roll of her eyes.

“No, not you,” Felix sighed.  “The spirit – god, whatever – suggested a demonstration.  If it thinks I’m going to just let it use my mind—”

 _Not yours,_ it grouched in exasperation, _Honestly, you lowlanders.  I meant, them._

“What?” Felix squeaked.

Bethany raised an eyebrow at him and he looked between the siblings.

_You want them to fight each other while possessed?_

_I do not see the problem in that._

_Of course, you don’t.  You’re a spirit.  You evidently possess people often._

It chuckled at him as Bethany said, “Perhaps a demonstration would be a good idea.  Carver, how do you feel about a duel?”

Carver blinked at her.  “You’d bury my ass.”

She barked a laugh.  “That was one time.”

Her brother gave her an unimpressed look but eventually agreed.

 _Andraste, help me,_ Felix muttered.


	24. Felix

Felix toed the snow-dusted ground, uncomfortable as he watched Bethany carve a large circle into the ground with the blade of her staff.  The air was cold in his lungs and he was thankful Carver had handed him one of Carver’s coats to add to Felix’s before they’d left the hold and made their way down the mountain to a secluded place at its base.  Even in the mix of Avvarian dress and his own, he was still freezing.

Carver tugged the hood over Felix’s head at a shiver and Felix caught a whiff of the man in the grey and white fur of the hood.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Felix asked nervously.

Carver just smiled at him.  “Don’t worry, my lowlander, we’ll be fine.”

He huffed grumpily and crossed his arms, burying his chin and hands into the fur.

Carver just chuckled at him and returned his gaze to his sister.

They were well away from the hold here and Felix wasn’t sure whether to be glad they were away from the dangers of the hold or scared that this was to keep the hold safe in case the twins became abominations.

“Ready when you are, brother,” Bethany said as she strode up to them.

Carver nodded and unsheathed his two-hander as he entered the circle.

Bethany pressed a stone into Felix’s hand and he looked down at its carved surface.

“I’m already a powerful mage, Felix,” she said as he ran his thumbs across the runes and symbols on the stone, “but with the aid of a god, I know my magic gets stronger.  I don’t want to worry about you getting caught in the crossfire.  So long as he hold this, you’ll be safe.”

“Safe from possession or…?”

She laughed, “You’re already possessed, technically, so you have no fear from that.  No, it’s so I don’t burn you to a crisp.  It’s a barrier stone.  We use them in training so bystanders don’t get injured.  Here.”  Her fingers barely touched the stone before the runes glowed a white-blue and he felt the surge of mana tingling through his hand.

Bethany stepped away and a dome formed over him as the light from the rune expanded and consumed him.  She laid a palm on the surface of the barrier and it snapped and crackled, shocking her hand away with the force of the electricity.

“See?” she said, shaking her hand out.  “Safe.”

“Are you sure the two of you won’t become abominations?  You told me there is a ritual before battles, before a mage gets a teacher.  You told me that keeps you separated from the spirit.  Are you going to hold a ritual here then, or…?”

She smiled softly and pulled the collar of her coat and shirt down to reveal runes tattooed into her skin.  Felix recognized the blue and silver runes and spirals.  Carver had something similar on his arm.

“If this is something you choose to pursue, the augur will conduct the ritual while you receive your tattoo.  She will weave lyrium and ink through your skin as she sings…It’s an experience words do not adequately describe.  It’s peaceful but overwhelming.”  A fond, reminiscent smile reached her eyes.  “The ritual and tattoo acts as a bridge for the bond, allowing your partner and yourself to remain separated.  We used to use charms – rings, pendants – but the risk of losing them in battle was too great.  Without that bridge, the spirit has no anchor and will be ripped from you.  If they try to tether themselves to you, you cannot be separated again.  It’s why we try to put the tattoos in places that won’t easily be removed in battle.”

“Are you two going to chat all day or are we going to do this?” Carver called.

“Oh, be patient, ya big baby.”  Bethany stuck her tongue out at him, then she turned back to Felix, looking at him expectantly.

He pursed his lips and nodded, watching her join her brother in the circle.

Carver nodded to her and Bethany summoned two spirits.  The spirits looked like nothing more than green wisps or wraiths as they hovered inches above the ground between the siblings.

Felix swallowed, afraid of how this would truly play out.

Carver inclined his head to the spirit before closing his eyes and relaxing.

Felix’s breath caught as he watched the spirit move forward and enter his body, watched as Carver’s body jerked once and tensing.  The tattoo on his arm shimmered before it settled and Carver relaxed, opening his eyes.  Felix could see hints of ethereal-green washing through and over the warrior’s blue eyes.  Bethany’s possession went more smoothly, but soon she too stood influenced in the circle.

Carver looked at him and smiled softly, no malice in his eyes.  If anything, he looked unsure at Felix, as if he were waiting for some sort of reaction.  Then he inclined his head and turned his attention back to his twin.

Bethany stood with her staff blade at the ready and Carver slid his foot back, ready to charge.  But it was the mage who moved first, whipping the crystal at the top of the staff towards her brother, fire shooting towards him larger than any Felix had seen Dorian make.  Carver swept the ball aside with his blade as if it were nothing but a fly, light bursting from it and sizzling out the flames.  He charged and Bethany was quick in both how she dodged and blocked with her staff.

A mind-blast sent Carver staggering back before he sprang to the side to avoid the immolation spell that formed beneath his feet.  Then he brought up his blade and swung it across his body in an arch, blue energy flowing from the motion of the blade as it swept towards Bethany, hitting the ground at her feet as she dodged.  The light exploded and sent a wave out.  Bethany’s spell flashed out as it hit her and she tightened her grip on her staff.

Felix knew Carver’s blade wasn’t enchanted, nor was the man a mage himself.  The sight of him using magic – or perhaps anti-magic, now that he thought about it – peaked Felix’s curiosity and he stood straighter, watching the duel with more focus.

Flames formed around Bethany’s wrists and grew in her palms as she flung them at the warrior.  Again Carver staggered back as he brought his blade up to block the fire balls.  Sweat ran down his temples and shoulders from the battle exertion and heat, yet Felix noticed not once did Carver truly appear tired.  If anything he looked exhilarated, a life coming to his eyes like none Felix had seen in their combat training.

 _This is what it is like to be a Fade warrior,_ Health said.  _Mortal and spirit work in tandem to achieve a common goal.  It amplifies a mages magic with a stronger connection to the Fade…or it brings a few magical abilities to non-mages so they may utilize them temporarily.  Many warriors choose to use anti-magic like a ward or a burst as a way of negating the spells of enemy mages.  I believe you are familiar of the concept in Tevinter, no?_

 _Have you ever worked with a Fade warrior?_ Felix found himself asking as he watched the breathtaking duel, magic and anti-magic flashing from staff and blade alike in powerful bursts that would rival even the strongest mages in Tevinter or Orlais.

_A few times, yes.  Normally my skills are sought after by a healer, such as Bethany, to bring aid to the wounded.  But I have been known from time to time to assist a warrior if the reasons are right._

Lightening flashed from Bethany’s staff and trailed through the air towards Carver.  He could see Carver’s jaw clench as he barely dodged the strike, his flesh burning slightly along his side.  Carver’s eyes narrowed and he charged, feinting and swinging his blade and knocking Bethany’s legs out from under her.

Felix heard Bethany’s breath audibly leave her as she hit the cold ground, but to his surprise she actually laughed as her brother loomed over her with the tip of her sword pointed to her throat.

“Alright, I yield,” she laughed, eyes twinkling from battle.

Carver sheathed his sword and helped her to her feet.  He smiled back at her and stepped away.

His body tensed again but a moment before his head tilted back from the force of the spirit leaving him, materializing again just as it had before between the siblings.  A shiver ran through Carver’s body before he straightened, taking a deep breath as he opened his eyes.  Now Felix could see the battle fatigue.

“So, like what you see?” Bethany asked with a wink, forcing Felix’s eyes to snap away from their roaming of Carver’s body to her.

“What?” he asked almost dumbly before he scowled at her laugh.

Carver stepped up to him, his smile still bright across his face even though he was clearly exhausted.  “See, just me.”

Felix searched Carver’s face.

He was just like he was before the possession.  If Felix hadn’t seen the spirit enter him and then leave, he wouldn’t have even suspected Carver had been possessed but a moment ago.

Bethany walked up to them as the spirits disappeared.  “Break one of the lines, and the barrier will disperse.”

Felix hesitated but a second before he scratched his thumbnail across one of the runes and the barrier fell away like sand.

“And your people do this often?” Felix inquired.

“For the most part,” Carver answered.  “I’ve seen our brother use it when our hold has been raided.  Not everyone likes it or feels they need the help.  Most of us warriors would rather show our own strength without the aid of a god, but it’s…It’s nice having that companion sometimes.”

“I think…I need to think about this before I make a decision,” Felix said after a moment, still wary about what was being offered to him.

It was all too much to take in at once.  The idea of willingly being possessed like that still made him uncomfortable, but watching too people he trusted be possessed and then un-possessed shook the foundation of everything he’d ever known about magic and the Fade.  If they could release the spirits that possessed them, Felix finally allowed himself to believe that Health would leave him one day and he’d return to normal.  He hadn’t realized just how much doubt he’d had about the whole thing until seeing the duel.

Carver nodded and Bethany smiled, swinging an arm around Felix’s shoulders.

“We have plenty of time, Felix,” she said gently.  Then she laughed, “We might make an Avvar out of you yet.  Right, Carver?”

Carver’s smile was softer now and Felix felt a small blush on his cheeks as he looked up at the warrior.  “Aye, almost.”


	25. Carver

[Month: Haring, winter]

“Nope, uh uh, not going to happen,” Felix said with a curt nod and turned away as if that was that.

Carver chuckled softly behind his hand from where he sat at the table, watching as Felix disappeared behind the curtain.

“I’m just saying it’s an option, Serah-I’m-Always-Freezing,” Carver said smugly and thinking it totally worth it as Felix poked his head out and pouted at him.

“I am a delicate flower, thank you very much,” Felix replied with a laugh in his eyes, “How you lot haven’t frozen solid up here I don’t know.”

Carver scoffed, “It’s barely winter.”

“There’s two feet of snow outside!”

Carver laughed.  “Delicate flower indeed.  It’s just snow, Felix.  Honestly, I know you lowlanders have snow, and this isn’t even bad.”

“Yes, we do, but not a mountain’s worth.”

He smiled fondly at Felix, still knowing the mischievous glint in his eyes was showing.  “All I’m saying is you might find it’ll help you stay warm until you get used to the cold.  You did complain about feeling like a stuffed pillow with all those layers on.  It’s just a suggestion.”

“I am not letting you throw me in a mud pit or whatever it is you people do to get all that – ugh.  Never mind.  I don’t wanna know,” Felix grumbled and disappeared again.

“Where are they?” he heard after a pause.

“I have them in my hand,” Carver said, trying to keep the smile out of his voice.

“Then give them h – you ass!” Felix exclaimed as Carver’s finger slid down his nose from the center of his brows to the tip of his nose, smearing the grey mud as he went.

Carver just laughed.  “Ok, I’m done, I swear.”

Felix just glared at him and muttered under his breath as he turned back into the bedroom, scrubbing at his face as he went.

Carver shook his head and followed him, rummaging through the trunk at the foot of his bed.  “Huh, I do still have these.”

He froze as Felix took his mud smeared hand and smudged it across Carver’s face down into his beard.

“There, now we’re even,” Felix smirked, the mud still slightly smeared on his face where he didn’t get it all off.

Carver smiled and threw the pants at him.  “Just get dressed.  We’re going to be late.”

“Does the mud really help?” he heard Felix ask as he wiped the mud from his face with a damp cloth.

“To trap heat?  Yeah, if you remember to change out the enchantments.  I haven’t yet, so it’ll still be cooling for the summer heat,” Carver replied.  “But it’s an option if you want it.”

“I think I’ll stick with what Cullen gave me yesterday.  It’s like everyone knows I’m cold.”

His breath left him as Felix came out from behind the curtain, his bronze chest bare, fingers struggling with the tie of the pants on his hips.

“Why the hell do these have so many ties?” Felix muttered in frustration, eyes intent on the leather strips in his hands.  “It’s almost worse than Tevinter fashion.  I swear, Cullen did this on purpose.”

Carver’s eyes roamed down the plains of his olive skin, catching on how the muscles moved as he breathed and the dusting of hair that trailed down the center of his belly to his navel and further down…

“Could you quit staring and just help me with this?” Felix huffed in exasperation.

Carver jerked his eyes back up to Felix’s face and nodded, praying the slight shake in his fingers could be excused on the last dredges of his recovery.

The fur and hide pants were thick and soft to the touch as Carver took the leather ties from Felix’s hands and pulled them taught.  Felix’s body jerked at the quick, firm motion and he tried to ignore the soft gasp that came from the man as Carver tied the pants with practiced ease until the ties were snug against Felix’s side.  He tucked the knotting over itself before straightening the furred loin cloth that accompanied the article of clothing so the knots were just hidden under it.

His eyes skimmed up to Felix’s again and was mesmerized by the way the firelight brought out the honey-golds and amber-browns in Felix’s eyes, waning and waxing each in shadow.  They traveled from his eyes to his lips, lingering.  The odd desire to close the small space between them and pull Felix into a kiss grew in his breast.

Felix’s eyelids went heavy and his tongue flicked out over his lips as he regarded Carver, leaning closer slightly.  Carver wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not but he mirrored the movement, feeling Felix’s warm breath brush against his lips as they gradually grew closer.

“Are you two ready yet?” Bethany shouted as she banged on the door.

The men jumped back from each other, startled.

Bethany opened the door and paused, eyes narrowing at them.  “Why are you two blushing?  And why isn’t Felix dressed?”

Carver cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head, trying desperately to slow his quickened pulse and force the blush away.

“Sorry, Bethany,” Felix recovered first, “Just needed a little help.  I’m almost done.”

Then he was gone behind the curtain and Carver forced his feet to carry him back to the table.

“Uh huh,” Bethany replied suspiciously as her eyes followed Carver’s path.

“What?” he asked, a little more breathy than he’d have liked.

She watched him a moment before she shook her head.

“Ok, I just have to grab my coat and we can go,” Felix said as he stepped back out into the room.

Felix turned to Carver as he grabbed the coat, blinking quickly before nearly physically shaking himself from whatever thought passed through his mind.

“Lead the way,” Felix said to Bethany and she took his arm, glancing back at Carver curiously before he followed them out of the hut.

Carver let out a shaky breath and gathered his thoughts.

One of these days he was just going to do it, kiss him and get it over with.  The thought made him blush again and he glanced at his sister in case she’d noticed.  Maybe he could finally talk to Felix about everything soon.  His lowlander certainly seemed to hide the similar thoughts less and less lately.


	26. Felix

Svana, the skald of Skyhold, sung and recited tales of great battles, histories of the hold and its people, and legends.  She sung a welcoming song for a young mother of the hold and her newborn, calling a prayer to Rilla of the Fireside in thanks that the two had survived.

Warriors and hunters barked with laughter, boasting and taunting in drunken merriment.  Some challenged one another to Haakon’s Trials in Winterbreath’s honor.

Felix barely heard any of it.

His thoughts were elsewhere.

He played over the memory of Carver’s fingers near him, incredibly thankful for the loin cloth for once and wondering if that was its hidden purpose considering how the Avvar lacked any degree of shyness when it came to sex – even relatively public sex.  He wondered what those fingers would be like against his skin.  Firm to the touch as Carver had been with the leather ties?  Or softer like the gentle touches Carver sometimes gave him in companionship?

Felix’s eyes went to Carver’s lips where the man sat beside him.

Carver was laughing away with Branson, oblivious to Felix’s gaze.

Carver had been so close, lips parted, pupils dilated and reminding Felix of storm clouds in a blue sky as it coupled with the look of want he’d seen there.  It was that look of hunger that Felix couldn’t get out of his mind, or the burn of it on his skin wherever Carver’s sight had landed.  Again he licked his lips as he wished he could taste Carver’s lips on his, taste every part of him on his tongue.

He sighed, taking a drink of his wine, wishing once again that Bethany hadn’t interrupted them.

Felix was sure that Carver would have kissed him.  When he’d leaned in unconsciously towards the Avvar, finding Carver mirror him, he’d been so sure that it had consciously hurt when he hadn’t.  A part of him wished he’d just closed the distance and kissed the man instead of waiting on him.

He craved Carver’s touch, battling with himself every time Carver did touch him.  Felix’s anger with him for nearly dying had largely diminished, but the sting of knowing Carver had sought out Cullen the night before the duel was still very much alive.  He knew he shouldn’t have been jealous and hurt at seeing the love-marks that had littered Cullen’s neck, but it had.  He didn’t have the right to be.

Carver had not been shy about his relationship with the thane.  It shouldn’t have come as such a surprise to him.

 _Cullen and I are not a couple_ , Carver’s words played in his memory, _We have bedded before, yes, but we never courted each other.  Neither of us had the desire to do so._

Felix’s heart sank as he wondered if that was still the case, if Carver and the thane were still nothing more than off and on lovers.  A part of him wondered if that’s all he would be if he pursued anything with the warrior.  Would he merely be a lover he came to when he needed release but nothing else that came with the kind of relationship Felix wanted more of?

It was those doubts that had prompted him to drop the subject every time Carver had attempted to bring it up.  In a way, Felix didn’t want his suspicions validated.  It almost felt like it would hurt more, to know that he really was unwanted.

Yet every time Carver looked at him with anything resembling desire, Felix twisted with doubt in a different way.

What if Carver wanted more than just sex?  What if he was giving Felix space, time, or the ability to come to him first?  Was Carver afraid to pursue him because of how relationships such as those were so frowned on in Tevinter?  Was Carver merely being conscientious of him to give him time to proceed on his own?

If any of those were the case, Felix knew he’d feel like a fool for waiting and pining as he was.  But if he chose to seek a relationship with his friend, Felix wasn’t so sure what it would mean for him.

What if he found Carver wanted to be with him not only in the entwinement of their bodies and need but also in the heart?  What if he stayed?  The thought of becoming Avvar to stay with Carver was appealing, more appealing than he wanted to admit.

 _The Avvar do not believe in permanence, though_ , Felix reminded himself as he scowled into his drink.  _What would staying accomplish?  You have a home in Tevinter.  Friends there.  Family…_ Remaining _family.  You haven’t even known these people for a year._

But his heart ached more at the thought of leaving Skyhold than it did for returning to Tevinter and that confused him even more.

“You alright?” Cullen asked quietly as he leaned closer to Felix.

Felix nodded, masking his emotions quickly.  “Yeah, I’m fine.  I just…Will you excuse me for a moment?”

“Want someone to go with you?”

No, no he didn’t.  He wasn’t helpless.  All he wanted to do was breathe.

“Unless you want to watch me piss, thane, I’d really rather have some measure of privacy,” Felix replied a little more harshly than he’d intended, watching as Cullen’s eyebrows shot up.  He muttered an apology and wormed his way around the throng of revelry and out the doors into the snow.

The frigid air was a balm as it obliterated his thoughts for a split second.

He pulled his coat tighter around him as he followed a random path away from the great hall, listening as the sound of laughter gradually dwindled into the background.  The paths were mostly clear of snow.  It had been shoveled to the edges of the village and dumped into the valley below so it couldn’t be blown back into the paths and so no one mistook where the edges of the cliffs were.

Felix sighed and paused, listening to the soft howl of the winter air through the hold.  It had become an odd, almost soothing, music to him.

 _I’ll apologize to him again.  Make up for it somehow,_ Felix said, guilt riding his belly as he recalled Cullen’s face at his outburst.

He really just wanted to be alone for the moment – and he hadn’t really lied.  He did want some privacy for not just his mind.  All he wanted was to clear his head and not be so distracted by the sheer weight of Carver’s presence.

Felix stared out over the valley for a time after he’d relieved himself, taking in the sparkling of the stars over the blue-white tint of the snow and shadow of the trees.  It was peaceful and beautiful in a way that he understood why the Avvar loved this place so much.

“You’re really not as intelligent as Carver thinks you are,” a familiar voice noted behind him and Felix tensed, trying to hide the motion from his shoulders.

“What do you want, Karras?” Felix said curtly as he turned, taking in the man from where he stood in the shadows.

“You speak like us, eat like us, drink like us, you train like us,” he replied as he stalked slowly toward him and Felix took a step back for each of Karras’s.  “But your presence is still a slight on tradition, a stain on the hold.  You are not Avvar.  Stop trying to act like one.”

“I could be,” Felix retorted.  “You’re word doesn’t dictate who can become Avvar.  My actions and your gods do.”

Karras laughed at him.  “You think the gods are going to accept you?  Or are you hoping Carver is going to swoop in and kidnap you?  Make you his mate like in one of your lowlander books?  You’re a farce, nothing more.  You will _never_ be one of us.”

Felix felt a sudden blast of wind behind him at his next step, sensing the open space beyond.  As he glanced to his side, he could see the drop down into the valley and his next breath was shaky, instincts moving to the surface of his skin to get away from the edge.

“Rorik may have failed to take care of part of the problem, but Carver won’t always be around to protect you.  Sooner or later one of you are going to slip up and this charade will be over.  Like now…”  Karras’s eyes roamed over him down to his feet.

“You wouldn’t dare hurt me.  Not with Health still inside me,” Felix stated firmly.

He knew it was the only thing keeping him alive, but for a split second, fear seized him as he wondered if it would still be enough in this moment.

Karras cocked his head slightly.  “Aye, that you do.  I’ve heard the rumors.  Augur says the Blight will leave your bones before winter’s end.  Once our god is released from their tainted prison, you won’t have that bargaining chip hanging over our heads.  You’ll be a dead man.”

Fury rose through Felix and his hands fisted.

“I don’t understand your hatred for me.  I’ve not once done one thing to you to earn this ire except for existing, which is evidently too much for your ego,” Felix growled.  “It seems like that’s all it takes here, right?  Just fucking existing?  I know why you hate lowlanders.  Carver told me.  I’m sorry for what happened to your sister, but I didn’t take her life.  I wasn’t even _here_ when it happened.  Do not put that blame on my head.”

“You leave my sister out of this!” Karras hissed, his hand fisting into the front of Felix’s coat.

“I am not afraid of you,” Felix continued defiantly.  “I won’t apologize for being lowlander, and I won’t be ashamed of it.  If you want to kill me, then try, but I promise you I will not die easily.”

“Oh, what are you going to do?  Myra had more magic when it emerged than you’ve ever shown in that play you call training,” Karras laughed.

“Magic, sword, it doesn’t matter.  I’m not weak, Karras.”

“If you think a month of sword-training makes you an expert,” Karras snarled, “you’re a fool – and a soon to be dead fool.  It’d be so easy…”

Karras took a half-step closer, pressing Felix back and he felt some of the gravel beneath his heel give way.

Felix could see the green flash of his eyes reflected in Karras’s as the man stepped back a step.

“ _You are testing my patience, Karras_ ,” Health roared through Felix’s voice, making Karras flinch.  “ _I forbid you from touching him.”_

On reflex Karras released the front of Felix’s coat.

“Everything alright over there?” a hunter called to them.

Karra’s eyes narrowed at him, jaw clenched and nostrils flaring.

“Yeah,” Felix replied steadily through the pounding of his heart in his ears, “Everything’s perfectly fine, Dagny.  Right, Karras?”

The hunter watched them, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two like a cat flicking her tail.

“Of course,” Karras replied smoothly.

Dagny waited until Felix was next to her before she started walking back towards the hall.

 _We should tell Carver of this,_ Health said, vibrating with anger.

_No._

_Felix, he was going to kill you!  Us!  This has surpassed my patience.  What Karras is doing is unforgivable._

_We are_ not _telling Carver.  And you will not tell him._ Felix thoughts were so firm that he could feel himself press Health down with the weight of them.

The spirit gasped softly before he sensed it watching him warily.

_Sorry, I didn’t…I’m sorry._

Health was silent as they returned to the hall, Dagny eying him as she went to her seat.

Felix sighed as he looked up at the table and the congregation there.  His eyes alit on Carver, taking him in, memory flashing to him lying ashen in his bed.

 _No, we won’t tell, Carver.  He’s not the only one who can handle Karras._   And with that he squared his shoulders and strode forward.


	27. Carver

Carver looked up as he heard the irritation in Felix’s voice.

“Unless you want to watch me piss, thane, I’d really rather have some measure of privacy,” the lowlander snapped before striding out of the great hall.

Carver locked eyes with Cullen who just shrugged and shook his head at him, both of them perplexed.

“His thoughts have been elsewhere all night,” Cullen commented.  “Something happen before you got here?”

This time Carver shrugged, not really lying, but not telling the truth either.

He had tried to put the way Felix had made him feel, the desire that had pulled at him, out of his mind once they’d arrived.  It wouldn’t help matters to be visibly distracted by the lowlander and fuel any more rumors in the hold about the two of them.  There were already plenty as there were.

For a second, Carver wondered if he’d done something wrong.  If the subtle, unconscious advancement had been too much, had been unwanted.

He mentally shook his head, _No, he had leaned in.  His eyes had looked…There was so much_ want _there…Korth’s teeth, I could get lost in those eyes.  Felix could drown me in them and I wouldn’t even complain._

“Why don’t you just tell him the truth, Carver?” Bethany smiled proudly as she came up to the table, leaning over it between them.

Her cheeks were rosy and the way she tapped her toes on the floor told Carver she was most definitely tipsy.  She always got giddy when she drank.

“Tell me what?” Cullen asked suspiciously.

_Bethany, please don’t say what I think you’re going to say._

“They were kissing,” Bethany nearly squealed.  “They tried to hide it, but you should have seen their faces.  They were blushing and breathless.  It was cute.  _They’re_ cute.  They make a cute couple.”

Carver groaned as Cullen’s face brightened.  “You finally told him?  It’s about damn time!  The two of you have been doe-eyed for months.”

Carver hid his grimace in his drink.

“So does that mean I win the bet?” Branson smirked, leaning in as if it were a conspiracy.

Cullen laughed.  “I’m happy for you, Carver.  Why are you keeping it hidden?  The two of you have barely looked at each other tonight.  Well, Felix was staring, but you’ve…Actually, that makes sense.  You have always been kind of oblivious.”

Carver just scowled at him.

“Is it because of how Felix was brought up?” Cullen asked then, quieter and more concerned now.  “That whole same-sex relationships thing being nigh forbidden?  He doesn’t have to worry about that here.  He knows that, right?”

Carver sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair.  “It’s not what you think.  Nothing happened.  We haven’t…Yeah, we were close to…something.  I don’t know.”  He ran a hand over his face, trying to form adequate words.

“Shit, did I interrupt it?” Bethany frowned.  “I did, didn’t I?”

“Kind of,” Carver winced.  “Maybe if you hadn’t shown up, we might have…I about kissed him.”

“Oh, Carver, I’m so sorry,” Bethany apologized.

Her face had fallen, looking absolutely terrible.

“It’s ok, Beth,” Carver said quietly, taking another drink from his mug.

“Have you talked to him at least?” Cullen asked.  “I mean, if you’ve gotten this far…”

He shook his head. “No, it still hasn’t felt like a good time.  He still deflects every time I try to tell him.  Maybe it’s how I start it…What happened earlier...that was…That was sort of spontaneous.  People shouldn’t be allowed to be that gorgeous half clothed.”  He sunk in his chair a bit as he sulked at the memory.  “I’m not sure if I’m ever going to get to talk to him.”

To Carver’s surprise and gratitude, Branson didn’t speak or crack a joke.  He just listened, expression soft.

Carver felt all bounced around and twisted up.  There were moments like earlier when he felt like maybe Felix might reciprocate how he felt, let him tell him everything.  But then there were other times when Felix would shut down after visibly noticing they’d been flirting.  The pain Carver always saw flash in his eyes before it was masked away betrayed something and Carver didn’t know how to broach the topic just as much as telling Felix he was in love with him.

Carver’s fingers tightened on his mug as the realization hit him.

He loved him.  He actually did love Felix.

The man was easy to like and even easier to give more of his heart to than he’d have liked to.  Carver hadn’t even realized he’d done so until it had been far too late.  Now his heart just ached.

Cullen rubbed his chin in thought, eyes calculating and Carver warned him to stay out of it as soon as he saw the look.  This was his battle and he’d fight it himself.  Cullen just watched him a moment before nodding, not saying a word.

“Something’s wrong,” Branson noted and Carver followed his gaze until they landed on Felix striding back into the great hall straight-backed, shoulders strong, head held high, and an icy-hard look in his eyes.

Bethany scooted until she stood in front of the thane as Felix sat down, ignoring them and taking a long drink of his wine.

“You alright?” Carver asked tentatively.

“I’m fine,” Felix replied curtly, eyes never softening, never looking his way.

Carver’s brows furrowed and he followed Felix’s hard stare until they landed on Karras who was just pulling out a chair at a table in the corner of the hall.

Karras’s eyes were just as harsh, angry even as he met Felix’s glare.

Again Carver’s stomach twisted in knots and he turned to Felix. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Felix, did he—”

“Carver, I am fine,” Felix said firmly and Carver clamped his mouth shut.  “Drop it.”

After a few more minutes of curt responses Carver asked if they should retire for the night and Felix conceded.  He locked eyes with Cullen again before he left, unsure of what was going on.

All the way back to the hut Carver’s mind wandered.

He hadn’t seen Karras leave.  If the hunter had followed Felix out of the hall…If he’d done something…No, something had clearly happened if Felix’s silent fury was anything to go by.

Carver had never seen Felix this angry and he kept a few steps between them to give him space.

Felix said goodnight when they got home and disappeared behind the curtain before Carver could reply.

What had Karras done to piss him off so badly, he wondered?  Felix had always repelled the hunter’s insults and threats.  But this was something else.  Something had gotten under Felix’s skin and it played at Carver’s anxiety.

Terror gripped at his chest as he readied for bed.

What if Karras had killed Felix and he wasn’t there to stop it?  He wouldn’t have known. Not until it was too late.

The thought made him feel like he couldn’t breathe.

He was in love with this lowlander and everything could have shattered around him tonight.

Carver took deep, steadying breaths as he tried to calm the panic bubbling into his throat.

 _He is alive,_ Carver reminded himself, _Take one thing at a time.  He is alive.  Whatever has happened has passed.  He is alive and he is safe.  You can deal with this tomorrow._


	28. Felix

[Month: Wintermarch, winter]

Felix swatted the fireball out of the air and it struck a boulder to his left, stone scorching black on impact.  He never broke his gaze from the mage before him, staff between them as they circled cautiously.

His limbs shook slightly from battle, breath heavy.  Hair clung to his forehead, long enough now that it sometimes fell into his vision and he’d have to wipe it away.  Sweat trickled slow paths down his temples into the light beard that shadowed his jaw.  Yet few of these plagued his thoughts.

Felix felt exhilarated, alive even.  His muscles ached pleasantly and the brisk air nearly surged him onward.

He swung his staff, the blade tip gliding across the snow as he pulled forth his mana, channeling it down the shaft into the blade and further down.  Ice spikes grew from the ground where the staff blade touched, small at first.  But as he pushed through the motion, the spikes grew and charged a path along the ground towards the mage, jutting out at her as she dove away from the attack, tumbling over the snow until she was on her feet again.

“Nice one!” Bethany laughed, shooting another fireball at him, the snow melting in its wake.

Felix sucked in a breath and his hand struck out on its own accord, barely thinking through the motion as the mana surged through him like a raging current.  A barrier sprung from his hand like a shield, gracing ground and sky.  The fireball bent and dispersed like water as it struck the barrier, Felix’s magic barely shimmering from the force of the attack.

Bethany pumped her fists in the air as she cheered and Felix found himself laughing just as excitedly as the barrier fell away and he straightened.

She settled her staff into the snow as she gradually leaned on it, chest heaving and a delighted smiled.  “I think that’s the strongest barrier I’ve seen you make yet.  You’re getting stronger.”

He walked up to her, skin tingling from the use of magic.  He felt euphoric.

“Yeah, that was…That was amazing!  I’ve never…It’s like I felt a dam break and the water rush in.  It felt raw.  Untamable, but…It was like instinct.  I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

She nodded, “I know what you mean.  You pulled from the Fade.  Glint’s still in your eyes.”

“Like what you did as a Fade warrior?” he asked in thought and she nodded.

“Exactly.  How’s Health doing?”

“ _I am well.  I’ve rather enjoyed this.  It’s been too long.  The feel of the air, life blood…We were one.”_

Felix still wasn’t used to his voice not being his own, but he found he minded less and less.  Health was a part of him now.  A friend and companion.

Bethany’s smile never diminished.

“You’ve been teaching me how to be a Fade warrior, haven’t you?” Felix asked with a laugh.

She nodded, biting her lip as her eyes sparkled.  “Aye, sorry if I deceived you at all.  It’s hard to teach someone who has so much of a god in the forefront without doing so.  I guess, I could have tried harder, but what’s the fun in that?  I don’t think I’ve seen you this happy.”

And he was.

Felix felt energized.

It was a pleasant change from the alternating days of feeling nauseous, weak, dizzy, or achy that he had come to recognize as the remnants of his Blight sickness.  With Health, they were barely there, mostly inconveniences.  He felt steady – truly steady – on his feet and he liked that.

“Come,” she jerked her head back toward the hold.  “It’s getting late.”

As they walked, Felix entertained the idea of accepting Bethany’s proposal again.  He certainly had much left to learn now that his magic was strong enough to form spells with relative ease.  Without pulling from the Fade, he doubted he could have formed the ice spikes as easily as he had.  Of course, he could just be doubting his own strengths again.

In a way, he understood why some resorted to blood magic, to feel this euphoric energy that vibrated through him.  But he had no desire for blood magic and only a growing curiosity for this new form of magic.  In part, he felt like studying it, learning how it worked.  He supposed he could do that just as easily as one of them as he could as an observer.

Felix was surprised by the thrilled shiver than ran up his spine as he thought about following this new path.

“The ritual to become this,” Felix asked as they neared the gates, “You said the augur does it?”

She nodded, “Aye.  She blends the materials, calls upon the gods to help and bless.  I’m not entirely certain the spells that go into it.  I almost felt like I had been an onlooker, like I was watching myself get tattooed from far away.”

“Does it hurt?”

She laughed.  “It’s a tattoo, Felix.  What do you think?  Carver said his didn’t hurt much at all, but he also got his on his arm.  This,” she rubbed her collarbone, “This is a bit more tender than an arm.”

“Do you choose where it goes or does the augur?”

She shrugged. “She takes in your consideration.  Usually, the gods guide her hands.  Guess it’s wherever they want it in the end.  Guess it’s where they can find the strongest tether.”

He nodded.

Felix had never really thought about getting a tattoo before.  It hadn’t really much interested him before though he’d entertained the idea a few times.

She raised an eyebrow at him.  “Thinking of joining, huh?”

“It’s an interesting thought.  I’m not Avvar, though.  Doubt your gods would want me.”

She barked a laugh.  “You _are_ Avvar, Felix.  As far as most of us are concerned, you are one of us now.  Those that don’t are just toddlers throwing tantrums.”  Then she nudged his side, smirking. “Carver certainly considers you Avvar.  You’re kin.”

He blushed and shoved her away playfully which she just giggled at.

“There is no rush, Felix.  You’re still an apprentice,” Bethany continued, “When you’re healthy again, we can train you for the part.  It takes a bit more practice.  For example, you’ll need to meditate, find a god or two willing to bond with you.  Health might be willing, but they don’t fight battles often.  I know of a spirit of valor that might be interested.  The gods like you.  Sure it won’t be hard to get one of them to accept.”

A small smile played at his lips.

One thing he knew from living with a spirit, he sometimes was visited by its kind in his dreams.  None of them had showed him malice, and Health had been vigilant in keeping demons at bay since the last incident.  Typically, it was curiosity, imparting words of wisdom, or advice he hadn’t known he needed.  They had been an immense help adjusting to the Avvar way of life, especially in his magical training.  He found he felt grateful for them.

“I will think on it further, Bethany,” he nodded.  “As you say, there is no rush.”


	29. Carver

The windows rattled and Carver curled up into a tighter ball under his furs.  He could feel the chill of the floor through the bedroll beneath him.  Above him, it felt like Haakon was trying to claw his way through the bedding.

Carver opened his eyes and groaned as he saw his breath in the darkness.  A shiver ran through him and it curled his toes.

He sat up, pulling the blankets from his head as he looked around the room.  The fire was blazing but he barely felt its warmth.  The vent hatch in the ceiling shook and the howl of the blizzard wind echoed into the room.

Carver never got cold, but even he had to admit it was freezing.

His contemplated his options – almost considering just jumping in the fire – before he turned his attention to the curtain across the room.  There was a soft chattering sound just below the howl of the wind and it took Carver a moment to realize it was bones – teeth – chattering.

Carver sighed heavily and bundled up the furs, hoping from one rug to another so as not to touch the cold stone of the floor and parted the curtain.

Felix was tucked under the furs, but he could see him shivering by the quaking of the bed.

Carver dumped the furs onto the bed and shoved the curtain to the wall, tying it with the leather strips that hung from a hook to let the heat in, and then returned to the bed to straighten out the furs.  Felix’s fingers curled over the edge of the blankets and he popped his head out, shaking and confused.

“Carver?  What are you – Hey!”

Carver crawled over him to the other side of the bed, ignoring the chill of the wall when his calf hit it, and hurried under the furs.

“What are you doing – Maker above, your toes are freezing!  Stop!”  Felix kicked Carver’s legs away and Carver grunted, pulling the blankets up to his chin.

“Sorry,” he muttered.  “It’s cold.”

“Obviously!” Felix exclaimed.  “But what are you doing over _here_?”

“It’s _cold_ ,” Carver repeated incredulously.

Felix just stared at him.

“Look, I’ll stay on my side of the bed, ok?  It’s just…If I’m freezing my balls off, I know you are.  Gods, I could hear your teeth chattering from across the room!”

“Yes, well, I’m in the bloody mountains during a blizzard.  Of course my teeth are chattering.”

Carver huffed.  “Are you going to kick me out or just accept this?  I’m tired.  I’ll even keep my feet to myself, I promise.”

Felix sighed heavily and scowled at him, but it was almost like it was half-hearted.  Then he collapsed back on the bed and shoved the blankets to his ears as he rolled over and faced Carver.

“Maker, how are you cold?  You’re radiating heat like furnace.”

Carver smiled softly at the blush on Felix’s skin. “Yeah, I know.  Sadly, I can’t feel it, so enjoy it while it lasts.”

They lay in silence for a time and Carver was just nearing sleep when Felix spoke again.

“How much longer before this storm passes?”

Carver curled into a ball, trying to keep distance between the two of them as he huddled into the bed.  “Not sure.  It’s hard to tell sometimes.  Frostbacks can be unpredictable with their weather.”

There was a pause and Carver cracked an eye open at Felix’s uncertain voice.  “Soo…This is going to be indefinite then until it passes, right?”

Carver cocked a smirk.  “Why, Felix, are you asking a barbarian to share your bed?”

Felix snorted and glared at him, the blush spreading.

Carver laughed.  “Unless you want me to stay indefinitely, Felix, I’ll just stay until it’s warm enough for the both of us.  Is that alright?”

Felix nodded after a minute and Carver smiled softly at him.

“Night, Felix,” he said softly, watching Felix close his eyes.

“Night,” his lowlander murmured.


	30. Felix

Warmth surrounded every part of Felix and he sighed contentedly, tightening his arms to himself where they lay curled against his chest.  He shifted his head against the soft fluff it lay against and sighed again.  His sight was blurry as he groggily opened them and blinked several times at the rise and fall of the chest he was curled against.

He felt the fire of the blush burn his cheeks and down his neck to his shoulders.

Felix took in every sensation: the light fluff of the blankets and furs lying against his back and over their bodies, the surprising softness of Carver’s chest hair and skin wherever it touched him, the firmness of their legs as they laid intertwined, the heavy weight of Carver’s arm over Felix’s waist, hand lying gently between his shoulder blades.  Carver was warm against him and Felix breathed deeply once he regained control over his surprise.  Carver smelled of evergreens and earth and Felix relaxed in his embrace, allowing himself to trail the back of a finger lightly against Carver’s skin.  Felix closed his eyes, resting his forehead against Carver’s chest.

He’d been both afraid of this and wanted it.  Dorian had always said he was an unconscious snuggler, always huddled next to his sleeping partner in their sleep.  Once, when Dorian and he had been younger, they’d shared a bed during one of their families’ outings and Dorian had found himself nearly falling off the bed in the morning with Felix pressed against his side.  It seemed things hadn’t changed.

Felix reveled in the feeling of Carver lying against him, wondering if this was a dream, another trick of the Fade.

 _If this is the Fade, I don’t want to wake up,_ Felix thought to himself, listening to the steady rise and fall of Carver’s breathing.

Carver shifted in his sleep and pulled Felix tighter against him, burying his face in Felix’s hair.  The snuffling tickled at first but the sensation was drowned out as Felix shuddered and let out a low hiss before he could stop himself.  Somehow Carver had effectively managed to line up their morning wood nearly perfectly and Felix had to restrain the urge to seek friction against the man’s hip.

Felix let out a shaky breath, aching for more touch but not daring to take it.

 _Damn this man,_ he huffed as his skin tingled with arousal.

Felix had laid at night from time to time thinking of the Avvar, thankful the curtain separated them whenever he took himself in hand.  Whether Carver ever did the same, he wasn’t sure and the curiosity made him blush.

Carver had blatantly flirted with him before and Felix had returned it.  At first, he had thought it was easy banter like the kind Dorian shared with him.  But as time passed, he wasn’t so sure.  There was no denying the hunger and desire in Carver’s eyes, the hitch of his breathing, or the lingering touches and stares.  Felix knew he wasn’t much better.

He unconsciously snuggled closer, his lips brushing against Carver’s warm skin.

All he had to do was reach out and touch, to know the taste and feel of the man.  He twitched in his trousers and unintentionally ground forwards.

Carver’s arm tightened and shook slightly as he shifted again in a slight stretch, murmuring something unintelligible before settling again.

 _Light sleeper,_ Felix reminded himself warningly.

Oh, what Felix wouldn’t give to remain like this.  What he wouldn’t give to run his hands over the plains of strong muscle, trace over each scar, kiss each freckle.  He wanted to know what the man sounded like with Felix’s lips on him, wanted to swallow each gasp and moan he tore out of Carver.

Carver ran his hand tenderly along Felix’s back, leg shifting between his until Felix felt it against the curve of his ass.  The warrior’s hips shifted again and Carver’s hand stuttered in its motion as a breathy groan was muffled into his hair.  Carver must have woken fully because he stiffened.

Felix debated whether he should feign sleep, but he knew the blush that still burned would give him away.

“Morning,” Felix said sleepily into Carver’s chest.

Carver didn’t reply at first and he wondered if he hadn’t been heard.  Then he felt Carver gradually relax, feeling a nervous tap on his lower back from Carver’s fingers.

“I, um, morning,” Carver replied and Felix opened his eyes to see the Carver’s chest turning pink.  “Sorry…I didn’t...”

“S’alright.  I forgot to warn you I tend to cuddle in my sleep.”

A soft, nervous laugh left the Avvar and he pulled away, hand trailing lightly along Felix’s hip as he untangled their legs.  “And I forgot to tell you I tend to hog the bed.  Sorry.”

Felix’s words left him before he could stop himself as the cold hit him, eyes closing against it.  “Mmm, stay.  It’s too cold.”

Carver chuckled again after a few seconds and settled under the blankets again.  He wasn’t close like he was before, but he was close enough that Felix could feel the warmth radiating off of him.

Felix could feel Carver’s gaze on him, but he didn’t dare look.  He’d appreciate this a moment longer, put it to memory.  Anything else felt like it’d break the quiet spell he’d woken to.

“So since I hog the bed and you snuggle,” Carver said tentatively after a moment, “How is this going to work?  Assuming you still want me to stay.”

Felix cracked an eye before giving Carver his full attention.

Felix was tempted to just tell him to stay and curl around him whenever Carver wanted, but Felix felt that would definitely break the contented spell between them.  And he didn’t particularly trust himself in his sleep.  If Felix cuddled next to the man, he hoped he wouldn’t start talking in his sleep – or worse.  The feeling of Carver lying next to him was a definite temptation.

“You can always wake me up,” Felix replied before blushing at the thought of all the ways Carver could wake him up flitted through his head.  “I mean, uh, ya know, just tell me to scoot over.  For some reason I migrate towards warmth in my sleep.”

“Alright.” Carver nodded, watching him carefully before his look went mischievous. “So I take it you do want me to share your bed?”

Felix huffed with a slight glare as he rolled over so Carver lay behind him, hiding his blush under the blankets.

 _Yes, I want you sharing the bed,_ he said to himself, not daring speak it out loud.

He could almost feel Carver smirking behind him.

 _Honestly, the two of you are ridiculous,_ Health muttered as the spirit retreated to the far reaches of his mind, far away from the images of a particular half-naked Avvar that played in Felix’s thoughts.


	31. Felix

[Month: Guardian (Wintersend), end of winter)

Felix sighed at the feeling of Carver pressed against his back.  He could get used to this, but he knew Carver was to return to his bedroll tonight.

He’d subtly tried to convince Carver to stay, making excuses for the warrior’s joints.  Carver seemed to always wake with popping joints whenever he crawled from the bedroll.  But the man had kindly turned him down, though the blush Felix had seen had almost convinced him to keep trying.  Yet it wasn’t as cold as it used to be and Carver had all but excused himself last night in an attempt to retreat, only staying after a few minutes of persuasion.

It was Wintersend, the last day of winter.  There was to be some sort of celebration tonight and Carver had seemed excited about it.  If there’s one thing Felix had come to know about the Avvar, they loved their feasts.

Carver had mentioned something about it before.  It was a remembrance of Korth bringing his people to the mountains at the dawn of time, the retelling of the Winter Song.

Felix wasn’t sure if he believed all of it.  He’d grown up with the Chant, studied both the Chantry of the Imperium and of the south.  He’d heard the Chant; found it lovely.  Felix had never really considered himself a religious man, or, perhaps the best way to describe it would be not particularly devout.  Yet the faith and cheer and certainty the Avvar felt for their gods spoke to him in a way he had not thought it would.

He still believed in the Maker, but he saw no reason he couldn’t appreciate a heathen faith in his life or his own religious practice.  After all, living with one of the Avvar’s gods in his head for ten months had certainly given him a different perspective.

Felix smiled fondly and then chuckled when he felt the spirit inside him vibrating with glee.  _Nice to see you’re excited for today, too._

If a spirit could burst with excitement, this one did.  _How do you feel?_

Odd question, he thought, before wiggling his toes and sighing.

He felt fine – good, even.  His lungs filled evenly and fully with the cool morning air, the crisp smell of wood smoke filling his nose from the last burning logs of the fire.  Felix felt no aches, not heaviness to his limbs save from sleep.  He felt good, better than he had in months.

His eyes opened slowly and then a smile broke across his face as the spirit laughed.

_It’s gone?_

Health nodded, _It’s gone!  I have searched all morning and found no Blight in your bones or flesh.  You are whole again._

A broken laugh erupted from deep in his belly and Carver jerked behind him, sharply breathing in as he looked up.

“What’s going on?” Carver slurred sleepily.

Felix’s chest fluttered in excitement and he spun around, grabbing Carver’s face in his hands and pulling him into a kiss.  Carver gasped against him, eyes opening wide.  Felix didn’t wait for him to reciprocate, pulling away with a wide smile.

“It’s gone,” he said happily.

Carver looked at him in stunned confusion.  “…Um…What?”

Felix laughed.  “The Blight.  Health says it’s gone!”

Realization slowly played across Carver’s face and he smiled brightly, pulling Felix into his arms.  A hand went into his hair and his body shook with Carver’s laughter.

 _Told you you shouldn’t have doubted me,_ Health said smugly, satisfied and pleased.

Health felt more than heard Felix’s thank you and Felix’s mind nearly went blank as Carver pulled away and pressed his lips to his.  The kiss wasn’t heated, more happy and elated, quick and repeated.  Felix smiled against him and Carver’s hand cradled the side of his face, fingers lightly curled into his hair.

Carver smiled at him and Felix looked up into his eyes, watching them soften and fill with an adoration he’d come to know from Carver but never dared chase.

 _Mortals,_ Health huffed in exasperated fondness and Felix laughed softly as he heard it mutter, _It’s about time._

At Carver’s curious expression, he said, “I don’t think Health is appreciating all the affection.”

Carver blushed and then gave a soft, quick chuckle as he pulled away and sat up.

Felix followed him, resting his arm across his propped knee.

“Let’s get you to the augur,” Carver smiled.  “She’ll be excited to hear about this.”

.   .   . 

“Are you sure you want to do this now, Health?” Augur Annis asked.

“ _There is no reason to stay any longer,_ ” the spirit said aloud so Carver could hear.  “ _I am…fond of him.  And he has been a wonderful student, but I’m afraid that my duties call me elsewhere.  Felix has mastery enough over his powers.  Any further distortions should recede once I am gone, and his continued training with Bethany will go a long way to steadying his abilities._ ”

There was a bittersweet feeling blooming in Felix’s chest as the growing knowledge that he would be silent in his head again soon.  He had gotten accustomed to Health’s presence, cherished their conversations and debates.  Health had become a good friend and Felix was sad to lose them.

 _You aren’t losing me, Felix,_ the spirit chuckled, _I will still be in the hold.  Just because I am leaving, doesn’t mean I want to stop talking to you.  You are delightful, refreshing.  You may seek me out in your meditations whenever you wish to talk.  I will be there._

Felix smiled softly and nodded.

“Then I will prepare,” Annis stated, “The paths up the mountain should be clear enough.”

“What?  Now?” Carver asked.  “It’s Wintersend.  Couldn’t it wait until tomorrow?”

Annis merely shrugged. “Perhaps, but this is a good day to do it.  The Veil is thinner.  It’ll be easier for Felix to complete the ritual today than tomorrow when the Veil waxes again.  If things go well, we will have something else to celebrate, no?”

Felix pursed his lips but nodded.  “What must I do?”

Carver watched him as Annis grabbed a bag off a hook and filled it with various objects from shelves and chests.

“There is one item I will need to get that I do not have,” she stated.  “Carver, you know the path.  I will meet you there.”

The warrior nodded and Felix followed him out into the hold, following a path he hadn’t before.  He hadn’t needed to go up the mountain until now and he watched as the village spanned out below them.

Felix’s thoughts wandered to his first memories of Health, his fear and panic, the trepidation.  He remembered the acceptance and the growing fondness as time passed.  Health had made him laugh more times than he could count, had angered him just as many.  Yet Health was a friend.  Always would be whether they were together or parted.  He knew that much for certain.

His heart quickened with nervousness as they continued further up the mountain.

It had nearly been a year since he came to the Avvar, nearly a year with living bonded with a spirit of the Fade.  A part of Felix had forgotten what it was like to live without that.  It almost felt like a dream was being broken, like he was waking and wanting desperately to go back to sleep.

 _Everything changes,_ Health said gently, knowingly.  _The earth turns.  Seasons change.  Life cycles.  Our time together in this chapter has ended.  You will be ok without me._

_What of you?_

It – no, _they_ – laughed.  _I will be fine.  Saddened, but alright.  This is not the end.  Merely a new beginning._

They walked for nearly twenty minutes before Carver stopped.

He gestured ahead, “I can’t go further than this, so we’ll wait for the augur here.”

Felix tilted his head.  “Are you tired?”

Carver scrunched his nose at him playfully.  “No.  Mages are the only ones allowed up there.  Since I’m not a mage, I’ll have to stay here.  Besides, I’d feel more comfortable knowing there was an extra defense between you and the hold.  Word’ll spread soon.”  His lips pressed in a thin line and he looked back down the way they’d come.

Felix nodded.

_I may not be with you, Felix, but I will be watchful.  We spirits move rather quickly, you know._

Felix snorted and shook his head.

A small churning in his stomach formed as he thought about what his life was going to be like without Health with him.

Would he be strong enough to take on anyone who meant him harm?  He still wasn’t entirely sure if his magic had been strengthened by Health and the Fade or if it had grown like a seed to flower.  What if once Health left him, he returned to the weak mage he had been?  He hoped not.

Then his thoughts went to Karras.

With Health gone, there was nothing stopping the hunter from making a move.  Yet the hold would know.  Those who wished Felix to stay alive would likely be more vigilant.  At the very least, he had a small window to prepare.

“Ah, good,” Annis said as she joined them.  “Follow me.”

Carver inclined his head to Felix and Felix chewed on the inside of his lower lip nervously as he followed Annis up the mountain and around a bend.  It felt like they’d walked for days by the time they came out onto a cliff, a dead end.

To Felix’s right, he could see the expanse of the Frostbacks and some of its valleys.  The wind brushed through his hair as if a spirit was raking its fingers lovingly through it.  For all he knew, there very well could have been considering the Avvar saw spirits in everything from the stone to the wind.

In front of him and to his left lay a pool of clear water.  It rippled gently from the water leaving and entering it from the rocks.  Steam rose from its surface, fluttering in the breeze.  He wondered if this was connected to the hot springs the Avvar used to bathe in when they felt like more than a sponge bath.

Annis laid her bag on the ground and knelt before it, pulling items from its depths.  “I will instruct you on what to do, Felix, but you will need to do this alone as all mages must do.”

He swallowed and nodded, coming to kneel beside her.

“First, you must make an altar in thanksgiving of Health.  It need not be elaborate.  Do whatever it is that comes to your heart.  Drink this,” she handed him a bottle of lyrium, “before you begin the ritual.  You will need it.  When you are ready to begin, burn the offerings,” she laid out a skinned bird and a bundle of incense – juniper, mugwort, and frankincense judging by the smell – onto the ground at his feet.

 _Then you set me free,_ Health said quietly, a sense of melancholy washing through Felix from the spirit.

Annis nodded.

“How do I do that?” he asked.

“There are a set of spells you must cast, but much of it comes from your willingness to say goodbye.  Can you do that?”

He nodded after a pause.

A part of Felix didn’t want to, but Health was their own being.  They didn’t deserve to be locked away inside him because of selfishness or Felix’s own fear.  He would do this, if nothing else for his friend.

Annis nodded and rested her fingers against his forehead.

Magic surged through him and for a few seconds he saw white, feeling as if his head had gotten kicked by a horse.  Images flashed in his mind, thoughts crossed his tongue that were neither his nor Health’s.  Then it was gone and he took a shaky breath.

“You will know what to do,” Annis smiled softly before she stood.  “I will wait for you down the bend.  Take the time you need to say goodbye.”

Felix listened to her receding footsteps as he looked around at the cliff side.

There were various piles of stones scattered about the space.  Some looked like they had once been altars, toppled by the elements.  Others merely looked like collected stones that had yet to be used.

His eyes wandered until he felt a pull and followed it to a pile, letting his hands work of their own accord until a small pile of stones had been set evenly on the ground by the pool.  The steam of the water warmed his side.

_Whenever you are ready, Felix._

He nodded. _I will miss you._

_And I will miss you._

Felix took a deep breath and uncorked the vial of lyrium and drank deeply, feeling the pooling of reserves fill him to the brim.  Then he blew on an end of the incense until embers glowed and it ignited.  He let it burn for a moment before snuffing out the flames and letting the smoke rise around him.

 _Bird next,_ he thought, going over what the augur had told him.

It blazed before him and he barely smelled it as the incense and offering took on an ethereal quality.  Felix could feel the Veil shifting around him and for a second he stiffened in fear.  Health soothed him and he relaxed.

Another deep breath.

“Thank you,” Felix said softly.  “For everything.  I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Health smiled at him and they pulled forth Fade magic as Felix drew on his mana.

The spells cast out around him in waves, pulsing in the air, forming waves in the water.  He felt himself shatter and reform thousands of times, his breath fleeing from him as his back arched, head tilting from the force.  He felt the magic pulse through him, energy clawing its way to the shallows of his consciousness and into the surface of his skin like an overfilled glass.  Felix felt like sand and water, air and cloud as the energy swirled in him like a whirlpool, flowed through him like the tides.

He felt no pain.  Overwhelmed by sound and color and touch.

His eyes widened as his body pulsed once and he felt the energy leave him like a receding ocean.  Wisps and tendrils rippled from him like cloth in the wind.  A breath not his own left his lips and for a waking moment he felt empty like shadow, a nothingness, before the tides rushed in and he gasped for breath, hunching forward and curling in on himself.  His body quivered of its own accord before it settled.

Felix felt empty, fragile, shaken.   Like a vase broken and pieced back together without glue, just the shards setting against one another.

A glide of a hand over his hair turned his attention up and a spirit looms over him.

“Health?” he asked breathlessly and the spirit nodded to him.

He could feel the energy from the spirit, recognizing their signature as the one he’d lived with for a year.

He sensed them smile softly before the wind shifted and they dispersed like smoke.

Felix felt hollow and spent as he sat on the cold ground.  It took several breaths before he felt steady enough to stand.  He gave one last look to where Health had been before he walked down the mountain, rejoining Annis.

She cocked her head once before she nodded and escorted him silently.  The look of understanding on her features told him she knew exactly how he was feeling.  It was an odd relief, and her quiet presence helped him gradually center himself.

Carver looked up at them, scowl softening into a smile as he locked eyes with Felix.  He unfolded his arms.  “Everything alright?”

Felix nodded and smiled through the tears that stung his eyes.

He was sad, yes, but he was happy at the same time.  An odd peace had fallen over him as he’d walked and for a moment he allowed its brightness to consume him, let himself hope for whatever future he might have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the ritual in part from what I could find in Dragon Age lore and also from my own experiences as a polytheist and possession. It can be overwhelming and it's not something I like to experience, but as a spirit worker it's sadly a risk I have to deal with.


	32. Cullen

Carver was barking orders at Felix as the lowlander crouched and lunged forward.  The warrior parried Felix’s wooden sword and swatted him on his side.  Felix’s grunt carried to them and Cullen chuckled at the hard glare the lowlander gave Carver as they circled again.

 _He’s determined,_ Cullen thought, _I’ll give him that._

“They’re positively sickening, aren’t they?” Bethany said fondly next to him as they leaned against the fence posts.

Cullen raised an eyebrow at her.

“They’re just,” she flailed her hand at them.  “Gah, they need to kiss already.”

Cullen hid his laugh in his hand.

“What you don’t see it?”

“Oh, no.  I see it,” he replied through his hand.  “Positively tooth-rottingly sweet.”

She nodded briskly at him as if he’d chosen the right answer and he barked a laugh.

Cullen followed every movement Felix made: his steps, the positions of his legs and arms, his swings.  He critiqued each step and each turn of the blade.  Felix was still new to the sword, but he had improved greatly over the past few months.  If push came to shove, he’d at least be able to hold his own if he needed to.  That’s what mattered.

Felix lunged again, feinted and ducked under Carver’s blade, and stepped around Carver through the motion.  The wooden sword slid across Carver’s stomach and side and Carver bent over it from the force of the impact, staggering.  Felix turned to him, wide-eyed and breathing hard, a look of shock on his face that mirrored Carver’s as the warrior stood frozen in the small practice arena.

_Huh, nice death blow.  About time._

Carver’s laughter echoed over the area and Cullen smiled softly as Felix laughed with him.

Bethany was right.  They were good together.  The near constant wanton and affectionate looks the two shared were adorable.  And he chuckled along with Bethany as Felix reflected Carver’s adoration and pride.

“Think they’ll ever stop pining?” she asked softly and he shrugged.

“Give them time.  I don’t even know if Felix is staying after the pass clears.  Either way, it’s best we keep our noses out of it.  Best to let them work it out at their own pace.”

She bit her lip.  “I hope he stays.  He’s made Carver happy.”

“It’s not only Carver’s happiness we have to be concerned about, Beth.  Felix is his own person.  He’s free to stay if he likes, but I won’t force him to stay if he wants to leave.  He doesn’t have family here.  We have little to nothing to offer him from his world.”

“Maybe not, but he has kith here.”  Her voice was firm, “He is Avvar.”

Cullen met her eyes, reminded again by how stubborn she was – how stubborn _all_ the Hawkes were.  “He is Avvar if he chooses it, Bethany.”

“Enjoy the show?” Carver asked as he and Felix joined them and Bethany beamed at them.

“It’s about time somebody kicked your ass,” Bethany laughed.

Felix rubbed the back of his neck.  “I wouldn’t say that’s what happened.”

Carver snorted.  “That’s right.  His was on the ground most of the time.”

Felix narrowed his eyes at him but Carver just smiled.

Cullen rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Hey, think you can walk me through a meditation?” Felix asked Bethany and she led him off into the hold after they said their goodbyes.

Carver hefted Felix’s sword before walking over to a crate and putting the two swords away.

“So you want a warning?” Cullen asked as he joined him.

His friend looked at him quizzically.

Cullen licked his lips as he leaned over the fence again.  “Your sister is going to meddle.”

“Ugh, what’s she up to now?”

“Well, I believe her words were ‘they just need to kiss already.’”

Carver groaned and hung his head as he leaned against the fence, cheeks heating.  “I think she’s a little late for that.”

Cullen stared at him a minute before he smiled proudly.  “You finally did it then?  Kissed him?”

“He kissed me, actually,” Carver said as he looked up.  “Morning the Blight was gone.  He just grabbed me and kissed me.  I thought I was still asleep!”

“Oh, don’t tell me you didn’t kiss him back!”  _You’re killing me!_

Carver huffed a laugh and straightened.  “No – I mean, I did kiss him.  I was happy for him, and…Well…,” he scratched the back of his head, “We haven’t talked about it or anything.  I mean, we just get these shy or awkward silences and my stomach gets all fluttery and…Oh, I don’t know.”

Cullen smiled fondly.  “Wow, you really do have it bad.”

“You’re not helping,” he glared.

“No, maybe not.  But at least the rest of us have some entertainment.”

“Thanks,” Carver grumbled.

“I don’t know.  Maybe Bethany had the right idea—”

Carver took a swipe at him and Cullen ducked, laughing.

“Alright, alright,” Cullen sniggered.  “Might wanna be careful though.  Felix is handsome and likeable.  Someone else might swoop in and get him.”  He winked at Carver and then barked another laugh as the man chased him away from the arena.


	33. Felix

[Month: Drakonis, spring]

“Carver?” Felix called as he stepped through the door.

The hut was dark and he sent up a magelight into the room, illuminating it.  It took Felix seconds to get a fire going and he dispersed the magic as he wandered around the hut.

It was rare that Felix returned home before Carver but he didn’t much mind.  There was a steady peace in the hut when Carver was gone – not that it was erratic when he _was_ home.  But Felix liked having that moment of peace before his stomach fluttered whenever Carver came home with a smile at seeing him.

Felix wasn’t particularly hungry, he noted, as he set the stew pot over the fire.  He’d been helping the hold with preparing food for the next winter and they had fed him before he’d left.  So far they had taught him how to dry fruits and pickle vegetables, though there weren’t many just yet since they were just starting to plant them.  The hunters would bring in game tomorrow for smoking.  Colban had asked him if he wanted to tag along, teach him how to survive in the valley.  He actually liked the idea, and it would give him a chance to test the healing magic Anya had been teaching him if something happened to any of the hunters.  It was something he didn’t think he’d be doing a year ago, but he found he liked the simplicity here.

He missed his books, of course.  And he missed Dorian.  But for the first time he felt some semblance of belonging and he was reluctant to let it go just yet.

 _Wonder what Dorian would think of me now?_ he thought to himself.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d warn his robes or conducted himself like the noble he was around anyone.  To the Avvar, he was just Felix, a lowlander but kith to the hold.

Felix could imagine Dorian’s appalled look at the Avvar fashion he’d adopted.  His friend had never much liked fur or hide and it made him smile thinking of how Dorian’s face would look to see him as he was.

He wished Dorian was with him.  He’d love to show him the valley and the people, introduce him to Carver and the others, show him the magic he’d learned.  Of course, he wasn’t sure how Dorian would react to how he’d been trained.  But Felix wasn’t ashamed of being possessed or contemplating a warrior’s role with the clan.  He was rather proud of himself that he had strengthened his magic through hard work and skill.

He looked over at the candle Bethany had given him to help him concentrate during his meditations.  It had been a few days since he’d reached out to Health about the prospects of becoming a Fade warrior.  At the time, the spirit had declined but it had been lovely to talk to them again.  The longer he stared at the candle, the more of a pull he felt from it.

The water would take some time to boil so he had time.

Felix sat at the table and took a deep breath, willing the veilfire to alight the wick.  Then he closed his eyes, centered himself, and reached out with his consciousness to the spirits lurking just beyond the Veil in the hold.  Three loud knocks on his mind startled him at first but when he turned to it, a spirit came to him, pulling his consciousness into their domain.

He didn’t recognize this one, but he felt no danger from them.

 _Hello,_ he inclined his head to them respectfully.

The spirit stood straight, watching him with authority and confidence.  _You are Health’s friend, are you not?_

He nodded.

_Hmmm…You are not much.  He boasts about you._

_I’m not sure whether to take that as an insult or compliment,_ Felix noted.

_It is neither.  Merely an observation.  They say you seek a partner, to become a warrior of the Void._

Again Felix nodded, _I’ve considered it, yes.  It would be a great honor._

They sniffed.  _That is true.  To bond with one of us typically is, but the question is not whether you want to be a warrior.  It is if you are worthy._

_And how does one judge another’s worth?  Through skill?  Perseverance?  How they treat others?  That is a very objective thing to quantify._

Felix had had enough experience with Health to know the spirits of the hold liked to run in circles sometimes and he resigned himself to be patient with this one.

 _Those are all valid in their own way,_ the spirit nodded, _If you wish to form a bond with me, then I will need proof of your skill, your drive, a look at your heart.  Through a mortal’s heart, one can always tell their ambitions._

 _You sound like a demon?_ Felix noted, folding his arms.

The spirit laughed at him.  _You are cautious.  Good.  Health said you did not trust easily when it comes to my kind, whether good or ill._

_If you are not a demon, then what are you?_

If a spirit could puff up, Felix guessed that’s what they did.  _I am Valor, the great courage in the face of danger.  I see you face much danger in this hold, mortal.  Yet you persist,_ persevere _.  There is a courage in you, facing down those who mean you harm, living among a people so different than your own.  But do you have the courage to fight for the hold?  Your friends?  The person you love?  It is one thing to believe oneself brave in the face of peace or contentment.  It is another to face down the blade at your throat or the stave bursting with deadly fire.  Which are you, I wonder?_

 _I don’t have much of a desire to fight,_ Felix replied, _I will if I must, but a diplomatic solution is more appealing to me._

_Bah.  Best to test ones steel against another.  The Avvar have it right in Haakon’s Trials._

_Are you saying you want me to do the Trials?_

The spirit shook their head.  _You are not ready for the Trials.  Your heart is not with them, not with the Avvar.  I see no point in pushing you towards this path when your heart is filled with indecision and doubt._

_Why seek me out if you don’t want to help me?_

_I was curious.  Now I am sated.  Seek me again when you find yourself, when you’ve become Avvar.  Perhaps I will reconsider._

Felix was whisked back into his mind and his consciousness staggered.

He sighed heavily, _Well, that was a waste of time.  They’re wrong.  I’ve chosen my path.  What more do they want from me?_

He was about to reach out again, perhaps have an illuminating conversation with Health again, when he felt cold iron lie against his throat and he opened his eyes, freezing in place.


	34. Carver

The dark sky ahead burst purple and white and Carver froze in his tracks.  Lightning licked the sky and a low thunder rolled over the hold.

Carver rushed forward, recognizing the discharge of magic and his breath caught as he watched the strikes erupt from the windows of his home.  The lightning drew into the hut from within and a bright glow grew blindingly until it shot up through the ceiling vent, crackling as it dispersed near the stars.  Carver ran forwards and tore open the door.

His nose stung as burnt flesh hit his nose, smoke coming off the charred body on the floor.  The air still crackled with electricity and his hair stood on end in its wake.

Felix stumbled back into a wall and slid down it, lightning still shifting around his body as he clung to his stomach with his arms.  Pain had squeezed his eyes shut and there was a feral snarl at his lips.

“Felix,” Carver breathed as he rushed to his side, hesitating to touch him.

Felix was breathing hard as he looked up at him.  There was battle fury in his eyes and he blinked rapidly as he took in Carver before relief filled them.

Carver touched his neck where beads of blood pool down his throat from the thin red line that marred it.  Fear gripped him and he checked Felix over for other wounds but found none.

“What happened?” he said worriedly.

Felix swallowed, bringing a hand to his throat, fingers smearing the blood.  “Cathur.  He tried to kill me.  I was meditating…I should have been more aware.”

Felix cast down his eyes before shaking his head, healing the wound quickly.

“That’s Cathur?” Carver asked, eying the body on the floor.

It was unrecognizable.

Felix gave a weak nod.  “I lashed out without thinking when I heard his voice, felt the blade cut…I’m sorry, Carver.”

“Sorry?  Felix, you’ve done nothing wrong!” Carver exclaimed before pulling the man to him, thoughts racing.  _They’re moving,_ he thought with dread.  “We need to tell the thane.  Can you walk?”

Felix nodded and Carver helped him to his feet, handing him a sword as they left the hut.

“Bloody fucking bastards,” Carver growled as they walked, furious that this madness hadn’t ended long ago, that they were still threatening Felix’s life.  “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’ll live,” Felix replied gruffly, anger matching his own.

An arrow whizzed by and the two immediately crouched in defense.  Six men and women sprang from the shadows brandishing sword, axe, and bow.

Felix immediately put up a barrier as another arrow flew at them, Carver sprinting forward as soon as he dropped the spell.  The group split in half as they tried to force the two apart, but Felix and Carver remained at each other’s side, weaving in and out in defense and offense.  One of the men fell at Carver’s feet while two stumbled back at Felix’s mind-blast.

“Karras!” Felix roared as the hunter appeared before him, blocking the man’s blade.

“Dead man and a fool,” Karras hissed as he kicked Felix in the stomach.

Felix doubled over and Carver parried the next blow, lashing out until Karras had backed away several steps.

“You will not have him,” Carver hissed through gritted teeth as all the rage he felt in the wake of his fear consume him.

Bells tolled over the hold as the fighting drew the attention of the clansmen.

A barrier erupted around Carver and he heard the static snap of a blade hitting it behind his back.  Carver barely turned before he watched a sword sprout from the hunter’s chest and the man fell to reveal Felix.  Felix merely nodded and Carver turned back to Karras, shouts louder as they drew closer.

“This isn’t over,” the man hissed as Karras turned and disappeared into the shadows.

Carver’s grip tightened on his sword as others came, wondering who was friend or foe.  Felix’s hand on his shoulder relaxed him minutely as he searched the area for any sign of a threat.

“What happened here?” Barris called as he joined the throng.

“Karras fled the battle,” Carver growled.  “He tried to kill Felix.  All of them did.”

Three of the culprits remained, weapons discarded on the ground, hands raised in defeat.

Barris shook his head.  “Any others?”

“Cathur’s dead in the hut,” Felix replied.  “I’m not sure if there were any others.”

“Cullen will want to hear about this.”

“Where do you think we were going?” Carver snapped and Barris narrowed his eyes at him.  “Sorry,” he muttered after a moment.

“Let’s go,” Barris stated simply before barking orders to bring the traitors.

.   .   . 

“Any sign of them?” Cullen asked when Colban entered the cave.

“He’s gone,” was the hunter’s reply.  “Bastard always could hide his tracks well.”

Cullen growled in frustration.  “I want word sent to our allies.  Karras will not find sanctuary with them or in this hold.  Any hold that houses him will be declared an enemy.  If he so much as steps foot anywhere in the holding, his life is forfeit.”

“And the others?” Felix asked from where he stood by Carver against the wall.  “Are you going to banish them too?”

“The gods have already dictated their punishments,” the augur stated.  “One has asked for execution.  That I will leave to you, thane.  The other two seek to redeem themselves, make amends.  I will have them sent beyond the hold into the wilds.  The gods will ensure they do not return until their quests are complete.”

Carver clenched his fists.  He’d rather throw them off the mountain for what they’d done.  It had only been three days since Felix had almost been killed and the thought of any of them still alive to try again made his stomach churn.

“Carver, calm down,” Felix said quietly.  “I can feel your anger like needles on my skin.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled and took a deep breath, trying to stamp down on his temper.

“You are certain of this, augur?” Colban asked.  “I want to question them again.  There could still be others in the hold with resentments toward the lowlander, or ones loyal to Karras.”

“Aye, there probably are, and I am inclined to agree with you,” she replied, “But the gods have already dictated their wishes to me and they want them gone soon.  They have given their judgment.  I can say or do no more.”

Cullen nodded, “Very well.  I will see it done.”

“You’re ok with this?” Carver asked silently.

“Your gods’ words are law here,” Felix noted.  “I will trust their judgment in this.  It’s easier…It’s easier than letting my anger control my actions.”

Carver sighed, “I swear, you’re becoming more Avvar than me.”

Felix smiled softly.  “I don’t know about that.  You still have the burly brute thing going for you.  That’s something.”

“This is no time to crack a joke,” he grumbled.

“No, but it made me feel better.”

Carver regarded him, the mask Felix wore, the odd calm.

Lowering his voice further, “Will you be alright?  What happened…It was unforgivable, and I…I’m sorry I was not there when Cathur…I’m so sorry, Felix.”

Felix took his hand, squeezing it.  “It’s not your fault.  What’s done is done.  I’d rather look to tomorrow than back right now.”

Carver nodded, refusing to let Felix’s hand go as he tried to pull away.

Felix shook his head, the slightest glint of emotion playing in his eyes, but he let Carver lock their fingers.

Tomorrow could hold anything for them. He needed that stability of Felix’s touch to ground him.


	35. Felix

[Month: Cloudreach, spring]

Felix laid in bed staring up at the ceiling, his hand warm against his thigh.  He was purposely ignoring his arousal, thoughts too troubled.  He suppressed a sigh as his fingers grazed one of his balls as he shifted on the bed, moving to sit.

Carver had left an hour earlier and Felix had wanted to ease the ache he felt but was burdened with guilt.

He knew Carver cared for him, obviously wanted him.  Felix was sure of that now.  He just wasn’t sure what exactly Carver wanted from him.  Was it just sex?  Felix liked the idea of the sex from what he’d heard from others.  His imagination had ran rampant with it for months.  But it wasn’t just sex he wanted.  The question was if Carver was willing to give him more than just bodily companionship.

Felix’s thoughts flashed to Cullen.

Carver and the thane had had a relationship – still had in a sense.  One thing Felix knew, he didn’t want to be with someone who was already in another relationship.  Though the thought had crossed his mind on what it would be like if he joined the both of them.  There were certainly a few people in the hold that appeared polyamorous in their relationships.

Felix nodded to himself, making up his mind.

He’d talk to Cullen, gage how the man would react if he pursued Carver.  The Avvar didn’t do permanency, and if Felix wanted to stay, he wanted to know just what exactly that meant in every sense of the word.

Now the question was: where was the thane?

It wasn’t midday yet, but it wasn’t early morning either.  He likely wouldn’t be in his home.  Patrolling maybe?  In the cave where he received disputes?  Skyhold wasn’t that big.  Surely he’d find him sooner than he thought.

To be safe, Felix stopped at the thane’s hut first and was both surprised and nervous when the thane called from inside.  Felix took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold.

Cullen glanced up at him from where he stood hunched over a table, a map sprawled out in front of him.

“Felix,” the thane said in surprise as he straightened, “What can I do for you?”

“I was,” Felix began before swallowing, steadying his voice.  “I was wondering if you had time to talk.  In private.”

The thane watched him curiously as he nodded.  “Of course.  Something wrong?”

“No, not really.  I just…I have a personal question to ask.  Well, question _s_ , I guess.”

Cullen’s brows knitted in bewilderment as he watched Felix stumble for words.  “Why don’t you sit down and start from the beginning?”

Felix took the chair opposite the thane who joined him once he sat at the table.  Cullen waited patiently as Felix gathered his thoughts.

“I know it’s no secret at this point that I’m interested in Carver,” he finally said, “I’ve heard enough whispers and blatant questions to know I haven’t – we haven’t? – hidden the attraction very well.”

Cullen leaned back in his chair.  “Aye, it’s been rather painful watching the pining.”

Felix blinked.  “Yeah, see that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.  Does it bother you?  I know you and Carver have a thing, and I don’t want to get between that if there is…I’m not looking for just sex, and I don’t…Your people don’t do permanence…I suppose I could accept a single night with him, if he doesn’t want anything more – if that’s not going to be a problem for you or anything.  I just…”  He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

Cullen just stared at him in shock before he scrubbed his hands over his face, voice exasperated and muffled, “Korth’s flaming ball sack, the two of you are going to be the death of me.”

“Excuse me?”

He sighed heavily and dropped his hands to the table with a thud, wincing at the sound.  “Felix, Carver and I aren’t…Yeah, we’ve had sex before, but we’re not...Lady, help me.  Are you asking me if it would bother me if you courted him?”

Felix blushed slightly.  “I…Well, yeah, I guess you could say that.  I just...I assumed there was more going on between the two of you.  I know Carver’s had some sort of… _something_ for me for a while.  But he sought you out over the winter, and I guess I just assumed there was more going on there than he was saying?”

“Sweet Lady above, please give me the courage not to strangle these two!” Cullen exclaimed as he stared at the ceiling.  “Felix, Carver loves _you_.  _Is_ in love with you.  Bastard’s too much of a coward to tell you evidently.  I thought maybe when the two of you had kissed…But no.  Of course not.  You both love making things more complicated than they are.”  The thane rubbed a hand over his forehead.

“But that night…”

“Nothing happened!  Yeah, it started out that way.  But we didn’t…Felix, he wanted _you_.  He was just too afraid of just _what_ he wanted and I’m glad I figured it out before it went any further than he had.  Honestly, the two of you are like books sometimes, readable but dense.  He was scared.  The last time he actively pursued the person he wanted, it didn’t end well.  The guy tore him up pretty bad and it’s taken a lot of us years to get Carver to open back up to anything remotely like what he feels for you.

“At first, he made excuses.  Wanted to give you space because of your upbringing and the whole business with the Blight and the death of your family.  Later…the more his feelings developed, the more frightened he got, and the more frustrated.  He was supposed to talk to you before that whole bloody business with Rorik happened.  From what he tells me, he’s tried to tell you but you’ve pushed him away, wouldn’t even hear him out.  If I had my way, I’d have locked the two of you in a room a long time ago until you’d sorted this mess out.”

Felix sat in silence a moment before he leaned on the table and buried his face.  _I’m a damned fool._

In truth, Felix had been too scared of what Carver would say.  All it did was bring back that night and the duel and he didn’t want to think about it.  He’d told himself he didn’t care about what had happened.  Now he wished he could go back.

“Felix,” Cullen said gently as he touched his arm, making Felix peak out at him from between his fingers.  “Why do you want to stay?  Why seek Carver?  As his friend…I want to know your intensions.  Last we talked, you had no desire to stay here past spring.  You could go home.  The passes are clear.  Why seek a relationship with an Avvar?  Lowlanders have never been keen on us before.  Or is it that you want Carver to return with you to Tevinter?”

Felix’s stomach dropped.

No, he didn’t want Carver in Tevinter.  The Magisterium would eat him alive.  It was too dangerous to expose Carver to any of that, especially if word got out about what the Avvar did with spirits.  It wasn’t a safe place for either of them with what had happened.

But he knew what he wanted.  He knew it the day Carver nearly died for him, but he hadn’t wanted to admit it.  Then having that knife to his throat, the thought flashing that he would leave things unsaid between them…Now what he felt for Carver was all he could think about.

“Carver is…kind and sweet and gentle…I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard or so often until we met.  He’s…Maker, he’s attractive.  Whatever is in the water up here is ridiculous.”  He knew he was blushing as he babbled.  “I want…Carver is about the only thing keeping me here.  I mean, this place and your people…I don’t…I think I knew when he was dying.  I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, and I just…I love him, and you say he…loves me, but he…If that’s the case, we’re both cowards.”

Why were words so hard!

Cullen’s eyes were soft as he regarded Felix, voice just as soft.  “If this is how you feel, talk to him.  Tell him your concerns, what you want.  We don’t believe much in permanency because our way of life negates it most of the time, but that doesn’t mean we don’t strive for it in regards to some aspects of our lives.  Colban and his wife have refused to part because they don’t believe the knots dictate their fate or how long their love will last.  Yes, it’s possible things might not last between you two if you pursue this, but that is how life works.  Unless you take the risk, you will not know.  Carver truly cares about you.  Talk to him.  I know he wants the same, but he’s too scared to ask.”

Felix nodded, pursing his lips.

“You asked me if this would bother me,” Cullen continued after a moment, “You asked if I – we – would still seek each other out.  I have no desire to bed another man’s partner…no matter how good sex with him is.”  Felix blushed, meeting Cullen’s gaze.  “Unless the two of you mutually want an open relationship, I will not seek him out – or you.”  Felix’s blushed depended.

_What’s that supposed to mean?_

“Go talk to him.”  Cullen stood, signaling an end to the conversation.

Felix nodded, voice unsteady.  “Um, thanks, Cullen.”

“Go on,” Cullen laughed lightly, shooing him out the door.

Felix took a deep breath of mountain air as he stepped outside.  His stomach fluttered and he felt lost, unsure how to proceed, how to even begin talking to Carver.

_Maybe over dinner?  I could…He likes rabbit.  I’m sure I can find something._

He rubbed the back of his head as he walked, nervously going over each tumulus thought that crossed his mind.  He barely noticed he wasn’t alone when he returned home until Carver spoke.

“You alright over there?”

Felix jumped and clutched at his heart which just seemed to confuse Carver even more.

“Don’t do that!” Felix grumbled.

“Well, I wouldn’t if you’d pay attention to your surroundings,” he replied with a cock of his head.  “What’s going on?”

“I, uh…”  _It’s now or never.  Stop being such a coward.  You can do this._ “I wanted to ask you something.”

Carver nodded slowly, “Well, that’s fitting.  I had a question for you, too.”

“Oh?  Um, well you go first then.”  _Damn it, Felix.  Stop that._

Carver stared at him before he shrugged.  “Alright then.  I want a duel.”

“What?  Have you forgotten the last time that happened?”  He glared as Carver laughed.

“Not that kind of duel.  I want to fight _you_.  You’ve come a long way since we started training.  I want to see what you can do with everything you’ve learned from my sister and me.”

“Oh.”

Carver looked at him expectantly.

_He wants to fight me?_

An image of Carver hovering over him like he’d done his sister when they’d dueled flashed through his head and he blushed.

“Felix?”  Carver asked as he quirked an eyebrow.  “If you don’t want to, that’s alright.  You don’t have to accept if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“What?  No, I do.  I just…You’ll go over the rules beforehand, right?”  _Stop blushing.  Honestly, you’re not a teenager anymore._

Carver nodded, smiling.  “Yeah, I’m not going to leave you in the dark.”

“Ok…Then when are we doing this?”

“Today, if you want,” he shrugged, “As good a time as any.  What’d you want to ask me, anyway?”

Felix chewed on the inside of his lips, debating.

If he told him now, would Carver decline, tell him Cullen and him were wrong?  Or would Carver accept?  Again an image flashed in Felix’s mind and his blush grew.

He cleared his throat, nervously.

_I can wait.  I mean, if I tell him, we’ll miss that duel, right?  A chance to knock him on his arse for all the times he’s done it to me?  Do I want to give that up?_

Felix knew he was stalling, slowly talking his way out of the conversation he _knew_ they needed to have.

“I, uh,” he stuttered.  “It can wait.  After the duel?  Both of us won’t be distracted that way.”

Carver raised his eyebrows, perplexed.  “If you’re sure…”

“Carver, if you do not get out in that arena, I’m going to assume you’re chickening out,” Felix taunted, watching a glint appear in the warrior’s eyes.


	36. Carver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm adding two chapters today. Next Sunday I'll add the last two chapters. This has been a wild ride and I'm glad you all have enjoyed this journey as much as I have.

Carver glanced over where Bethany coached Felix on the rules, and, if he knew his sister, tips on openings in Carver’s defenses.  Felix listened intently, nodding at times as she spoke.

“So wanna make a bet?” Branson grinned to Rylen where they stood watching nearby.

Carver rolled his eyes.  “Everything’s a bet to you.”

“Maybe so,” Branson shrugged, “but this is going to be good.”

Rylen just smirked knowingly and Carver glared at them.  The man leaned closer to Branson, “I don’t know.  Lowlander’s gotten stronger.  His staff work is pretty good.”

“Carver can cleave that thing in two,” Branson replied incredulously.

Rylen just raised an eyebrow.

“When you two are done,” Carver sighed.

Branson scratched his chin.  “I don’t know.  Press him hard – stop snickering, Rylen.  That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“If you lot are done over there,” Bethany called, “we’re ready.”

Carver nodded and jerked the blunt two-hander out of Rylen’s hand as the man continued to laugh while Branson just chattered away.

Felix stood in the middle of the arena, staff in hand as he tested the balance with a few quick whirls.

 _Stop staring at his shoulders,_ Carver chastised as his eyes were drawn to the movement of muscles.

“You sure about this?” Felix asked when he reached him.  “I could seriously hurt you.”

“So could I,” he replied, “but I want to see exactly what you can do.  Besides, Beth’s here if we need her.  I’m sure she’d kill me for being reckless before you do.”

Felix snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Until one of us yields,” Carver inclined his head, taking a few steps back.

Felix mirrored him, pulling the staff across his chest until the crystal lay behind his back, arm tucked against the shaft, and dulled blade at the ready.

 _Ok,_ he smiled to himself, _This is going to be fun._

Carver charged first, swinging hard as he forced Felix on the move.  Felix parried the motion with the staff-blade, using Carver’s force against him.  It was such a Bethany thing Carver spared her a second of glare before pressing forward again.  Then there was a crunch as his blade landed across the staff as Felix blocked.

Ice magic crept along the shaft as Felix pushed back.  He shifted his weight and they passed each other, circling again.  Carver watched the spin of the staff as he tried to predict what Felix might throw at him.  As of yet, Felix had yet to attack him.  And if Bethany really had coached him, Carver knew he was conserving his mana.

 _Right, then_ , he thought as he rushed forwards again.

Branson was partially right.  Even with the stamina training he’d made Felix go through, he still wasn’t prepared to keep it up a fight for very long.  Carver could use that to his advantage.

After a few passes Felix seemed to read him and the mage changed his tactics.  An energy barrage left him and Carver dodged and blocked as best he could.  One bolt still hit him in the shoulder and he shook it off.

“That all you can do?”  Carver taunted.  “Thought Bethy taught you better than this.”

“Taunting’s not going to work,” Felix grinned.

“Eh, I can try.”  And he charged again, landing a mighty blow that staggered Felix back as he rushed to get out of the way.

“Fine, have it your way.”

Ice erupted at his feet as Felix targeted a winter’s grasp around his ankles.  Chain lightning erupted from the staff’s crystal and Carver lost himself in the battle.  His senses honed in on each individual step, breath, and movement Felix took.  Every sight and sound was heightened as he grazed passed, catching Felix’s hip.  The mage’s body jerked with the movement and he favored his other leg a moment.

Carver tried to use that to his advantage but Felix channeled magic into the staff’s existing enchantments and lightning struck out at him before he could get close too him.  The smell of ozone filled his nose as a bolt flew by his face and he gritted his teeth.

“Oi!  I can’t replace an ear!” Bethany yelled at them.

“Sorry,” he heard Felix mutter, stepping back into a defensive posture.

Sweat clung to their skin as the fighting persisted, flowing between offensive and defensive tactics to gage just where each other’s weaknesses lay.  A couple times Felix caught Carver in the side as he left his defenses open with a few strikes.  It was something Carver still struggled to defend and Felix was always there and out before he could react.

At least some of their bruises would match.

Felix gradually picked up on how slow Carver’s movements were as he used the force of momentum to carry the weight of his blows.  Two more energy barrages forced Carver on the defensive as he tried to block them.

 _Good, he’s reading me,_ Carver thought, proud that some of his training had stuck.

Felix moved lithely and deadly as he picked up confidence in his skills and it excited Carver.  His lowlander had come a long way since he’d arrived, come into his own.  Felix moved with purpose, no hesitation between attacks.  Carver couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of what Felix had become nor the way his muscles moved with each pull of the staff.

Carver purposely drew Felix in and then spun his sword in a whirlwind that made Felix jump back quickly, the tip just barely snagging across his stomach.  Felix reached out on reflex and the force of the ice magic erupting from his hand staggered Carver.  The cold bloomed over his chest and shoulders and he shivered.

Electricity fluxed around Felix’s body and his eyes hardened as he took Carver in.

Static charge?  Great.  Carver hated those.

He wasn’t sure whether to be happy Felix had learned stronger magic or be irritated because this was going to hurt.  A lot.

Each time Carver drew into Felix’s space, the static clinging to Felix’s skin lashed out and sparked against his.  His muscles spasmed lightly and shook at each strike and he growled in frustration before pacing away, keeping Felix in his vision as he assessed a better tactic.  Each strike against his skin stung brightly.  Carver knew he wasn’t going to be able to get in a hit until the static charge dropped.

The question, though, was how long Felix could keep it up.


	37. Felix

Felix could hear the cheers of the small crowd that had formed on the outskirts of the arena.  Some heckled, others cheered them on.  Every now and then he could make out Bethany yelling out encouragement or advice.

“No helping!” Carver yelled back, mock betrayal on his face as his twin laughed.

 _He doesn’t guard his side like he should.  And he’s slow.  Use them to your advantage_ , she’d said.  _Keep him ranged and he can’t hurt you.  And if things get too close, you can always use that move I taught you.  He hates that._

By the frustrated determination in Carver’s eyes as the warrior circled him, he could see what Bethany had meant.  Pink spots bloomed on Carver’s skin wherever the static had struck him and light tremors ran up the warrior’s arms from the aftershocks.

Felix thought quickly.

He couldn’t keep taking Carver’s charges, and he couldn’t keep the static charge up unless he wanted to run out of mana.  His magic was his one advantage against Carver’s skill and they both knew it.  Whereas Felix had always been a mage, always known a few basics at fighting, Carver had had a lifetime with a sword.  The six months Felix had trained with him was not going to be enough to go toe to toe with the man and win.  Well, unless he got lucky.  And Felix had never been very good at luck.

Short bursts.  He could do that.  Look for an opening while he used his magic to distract Carver.

Felix rushed forwards, barely catching Carver’s eyes widen slightly as Felix changed their positions.  He forced Carver on the defensive as he shot lightning from his staff over and over again.  It bounced off the sword, caught Carver in the elbow, and assaulted the ground at his feet.

“It’s not a dance, Carver!” Branson shouted with a laugh.

Felix watched Carver’s jaw tighten and the man ducked, putting all of his weight into lunging forward.  Felix tumbled away and pulled his mana to the surface as Carver turned.

The spell wasn’t easy for him, still new.  But it charged and pulled at his senses until the lightning bolt burst from his hands.  He barely caught Carver’s expression as the man jerked the blade in front of him, the flat of the metal resting against his forearm as the force of the blow sent him flying.

 _Shit,_ Felix breathed, anxiety playing at his nerves as he watched Carver stagger back to his feet.

Carver just smiled at him, almost feral, before giving a war cry as he came at him again.

 _Shit,_ he groaned, recognizing the look in Carver’s eyes.

The warrior wasn’t going to show him any mercy, press him back until he caved.  He’d done it before.

Felix swung the staff across his body, blade gliding just above the ground.  He flowed his mana through it and ice erupted in the staff’s wake.  The spikes surged out towards Carver as the cone of cold arched and separated the two.  He could see the quick hesitation in Carver’s step before the warrior jumped up and pushed off of a spike and over the barrier.

Felix automatically cast a barrier, blocking a strike from the two-hander as it flew by.  Then he cast ice mines between them, trying to think quickly at how to get his back away from the corner he’s unintentionally forced himself into.

Carver’s eyes were recalculating when Felix felt a presence at his ear just beyond the Veil.  He could feel its eyes on him and the spell in his hand stuttered as he felt the pull of the Fade, the presence becoming more familiar as it grew stronger.

“ _I suppose you have potential_ ,” the voice whispered thoughtfully and he hesitated.

_Valor?_

Carver took the hesitation and Felix went from seeing him to staring up at the sky before he could blink as the warrior drew Felix’s legs out from under him in one quick swipe.  A delayed groan escaped him as his mind worked its way slowly out of its stunned state.  Somehow in the fall he’d lost his staff and he gripped blindly at the dirt in shock.

Suddenly Carver was there and the sword crunched into the ground by his head.  The warrior’s breathing was heavy as he attempted to regain his breath, kneeling over Felix.

Felix’s mind went blank a moment as he took in Carver’s form above him, the feel of the man’s thigh pressed against his hip.  No manner of bruise could distract him from that.  He had to restrain himself from reaching out and touching.

“Well fought,” Carver beamed, victory in his eyes.

Something flashed in Felix and he moved through the emotion in his chest, trailing a knee up the inner thigh of Carver’s bent leg until he brushed against the side of Carver’s groin.  Carver’s breath hitched and his eyes widened as a blush blossomed under the flush of battle that already claimed his cheeks.  Felix smirked and instinct took him, pulling from the Fade and colors melded together as he pushed up and Fade-stepped.

His skin felt cold and the wind howled in his ears as sound blurred.  When it drew back and his sight and hearing cleared, Carver lay beneath him, frost coating both of them.  Felix rested a hand on Carver’s chest and drew his other back, a ball of lightning forming in his palm.  He purposely forced the feeling of Carver’s hips against him as he straddled the warrior out of his mind, thinking about anything to keep from embarrassing them both.

Carver’s eyes were shocked as he looked up at Felix.

“Yield,” Felix breathed roughly.

Carver searched his face before pride filled his features and he tapped the ground next to them, smiling up at him.

Sound roared around them and Felix forced himself to his feet, not daring to linger here.

Bethany’s arms wrapped around his neck and he nearly lost his balance as she squealed and hugged him.  He knew he was blushing just as much as Carver as he hugged the mage back, smiling brightly as the adrenaline rush coursed out of his veins.

“Well fought,” Carver said again.

It took them a few minutes but they finally extricated themselves from the throng of onlookers and headed back to the hut.

Felix grabbed a bowl and returned to the bedroom, filling it with water.  He could hear Carver in the other room ringing out a cloth for his own bath.

Dirt clung to his skin and he scrubbed the sweat and battle from him, touch lingering on each place where a bruise had been before Bethany had healed most of them.  His mind went to Carver as he washed, thinking of each strike and brush.

He blushed again at the memory of Carver over him, under him.  The warrior had definitely reacted to his touch now that he thought about it.  He’d felt the twitch, the growing pressure.

Felix drew the cloth over him a few more times before he made a decision and turned to the curtain separating them.  This was one risk he was going to take.  Anything after it could wait.


	38. Carver (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They didn't need me at work today so I guess you guys get the last two chapters of this fic a day early. Enjoy!

The spring winds hadn’t done much to cool the heat from his skin nor temper the feel of battle in his bones.  The duel had been exhilarating in more ways than one, and Carver almost wanted to feel the rush of adrenaline again against Felix’s magic.  It had felt almost like a dance, something almost intimate, and it brought a smile to his face.

The water was cool on his skin as he scrubbed himself down.  He caressed each fading bruise Felix had given him with satisfaction, pleased Felix had gotten stronger not only physically and metaphysically, but that he had found a courage he had not had in the beginning of their training.

Carver squeezed the washcloth, sighing softly as the water trickled down his back and shoulder and over the freshly healed skin of the burn Felix’s lightning had given him.  The skin still tingled from the memory, but Carver wouldn’t have known he’d been injured just by looking at it.  Felix had certainly gotten better at healing magic, stronger.  Bethany had offered but Felix had stepped up and Carver paused at the memory of his touch.

He winced as he pressed too hard at the bruise on his hip and gently ran his thumb over it as if the motion would sooth it.  He hadn’t wanted them all healed.  He wanted to remember.

 _Right,_ he thought, _Bathing.  Not thinking about Felix._

Yet his mind wandered over each memory from each wound.  He recalled the flex of muscle, the tightening of Felix’s abs as he swung his stave, Felix’s determined eyes.  Carver smiled fondly at the rush of battle he’d seen in them, at the strength in his lowlander.

He bit his lip, trying to focus his mind back to the cloth running over his skin.

_Pants, Carver.  Honestly, this isn’t that hard._

He suppressed a groan as he glared down at himself, half-hard against the back of his hand as he cleaned away his sweat.

 _Traitor,_ he grumbled with a pout.

Carver rung out the cloth again, mostly finished.  Yet he paused as the back of his neck prickled.

He looked up and spotted Felix watching him.  His breath caught at the hungry look in the man’s eyes, not breaking away as Felix strode over to him.  Carver had barely regained his senses, barely noticed that Felix was all copper skin and nothing else, before Felix took the cloth from his hand and let it drop to the floor, pressing him back against the wall.

He let out a shuddered breath as he felt Felix against him, felt the brush of hardness against his leg.  Felix’s eyes were heavy lidded, commanding, as he looked up at him, little distance between their lips.  Carver’s groan stuck in his throat as Felix’s voice was low and nearly filled with the authority of a warrior.

“I want to touch you,” Felix said, no hesitation or uncertainty in his voice.

Carver just nodded, words heavy on his tongue.

“I want you,” Felix continued, his lips just a hair’s breadth from Carver’s.

Carver shivered at the words, at the soft brush of Felix’s breath on him.  Felix’s hands splayed on his hips blocked his thoughts.

“Speechless?”

“Your hands are a little distracting,” Carver said breathlessly.

Carver nearly growled at the smirk Felix gave him, the lightest touch of skin against his mouth as if Felix were teasing him, daring him to take.

“Do you want to touch me?” Felix asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” came Carver’s reply.

It was so soft he wasn’t sure he’d actually said it.

Felix’s lips came near his again and Carver broke, closing the distance and claiming him.  He felt Felix’s smile against him, the lowlander kissing him back just as needy from the tease.

Carver’s arms wrapped around Felix, drawing him in fully.  Felix shifted, struggling his arms out from under the weight of Carver’s and wrapping them up around Carver’s neck, fingers curling in his hair.  Carver’s heart fluttered as he swallowed Felix’s gasp when Carver’s hand slid down Felix’s back to cup at his ass, kneading a cheek.

He didn’t want to come up for air, wanted to drown in Felix until Carver was broken and pieced back together again.  But his lungs screamed at him and he broke away, gasping for breath.  Felix gave a shuddered exhale, leaning his forehead against Carver’s, clinging to him.

“Felix,” Carver breathed, brushing his nose against his lowlander’s.

“Yes?” Felix said in a daze, lips parted.

“Bed?” Carver suggested with a soft smile, chest warm at seeing Felix so overcome.

A slow smile played at Felix’s lips and he opened his eyes, nearly black from desire.

Carver kissed him again, not waiting for words.  He’d take it as an answer unless Felix told him otherwise.

Felix’s arms tightened around him as Carver’s hands hooked under his thighs and hauled Felix up around his hips.  Again he swallowed Felix’s gasp, and Felix consumed Carver’s groan as the lowlander hooked his ankles behind Carver’s back.

Carver struggled with the curtain for a second before he collapsed them both on the furs of his bed, cupping his hands under Felix’s ass and scooting him further up before crawling up Felix’s body.  Not once did he break the kiss, devouring Felix’s lips and sighs as his hands roamed over him.

For a moment he was lost in the mage, lost to the touch of Felix’s fingers and nails, lost in the trail of Felix’s leg against his.  For too long he had wanted this, wanted to ravage and devour every piece of this lowlander, consume each sound Carver elicited from him.  Felix whimpered at Carver’s nails at his hip and Carver loosened his grip, slowing the kiss until he finally pulled back.  Felix tried following but fell back against the furs as Carver pulled away further.

Carver searched Felix’s face, taking in the need in his eyes, the desire in his skin, the pout at his lips.  He brought his hand to Felix’s cheek and ran his thumb along the man’s high cheekbone.  A small smile played at Carver’s lips, chest swelling with adoration.

His lips were gentle this time, tender as he kissed Felix again.

No, he wouldn’t ravage.  Not this time.  Not yet.

Carver wanted to explore his lowlander, discover what he liked, kiss and taste each plain of skin.  He wanted to bring Felix to the edge and over and back down again.  He wanted to _love_ him, worship him.

“Carver,” Felix breathed as they pulled away for air again.

Carver hummed, trailing his hand along Felix’s cheek, down his neck, over the slope of his shoulder, and down his arm.

“Is this something you want?” Carver asked then, suddenly unsure.

He would have Felix’s full consent, touch him as asked.

Felix nodded, clearly overwhelmed.

“I will go slowly,” Carver continued, “if this is something you want.  Do not be afraid to stop me.”

Again Felix nodded, arching up to kiss him again.

Carver almost let him, pulling back again.

Felix searched his face, confusion playing at his brow.  “What is it?”

Carver’s smile was soft, affectionate.  “I need to hear you say it, my lowlander.  Your permission.”

“You have it,” Felix breathed, voice full of emotion and need.  “All of me.  Please.”

Carver kissed him tenderly again before trailing the kiss along the stubble of Felix’s chin, down the column of his throat, teeth scraping at the peak of a collarbone.  Felix sighed contentedly, back arching with his quickened breath as Carver continued his path further down.  Carver’s hands were gentle along Felix’s sides, loving and warm.

“Beautiful,” Carver breathed as his hands roamed over Felix’s chest and torso, the pad of a finger tracing the long scar along his ribs from the darkspawn so long ago.  “Absolutely perfect.”

Felix’s breath hitched and his hands raked through Carver’s hair, lips parted as he arched again as Carver’s lips latched onto a nipple, tongue swirling and teeth grazing.  His chest tightened at Felix’s breathy moan.  Carver’s hand splayed across the ragged rise and fall of Felix’s sides, emotions overcoming him.  The warrior turned his attention to Felix’s other nipple before continuing to kiss his way down over Felix’s ribs, along the scars and sensitive skin.  He nipped at Felix’s hipbone, cherishing the hiss from him, licking the sting away with a swipe of his tongue.

He caught Felix’s cock twitch in the corner of his eye as he kissed the crook of skin between the lowlander’s sack and thigh.

“Is this ok?” Carver asked, surprised by how weak his voice sounded, how low.

Felix nodded, watching him.

Again Carver was struck by the emotion in Felix’s eyes and he let a baited breath pass his lips as he shifted down and ran the flat of his tongue along Felix’s cock.  Felix’s breath clearly caught in his throat as he continued to meet Carver’s gaze through fluttering eyelashes.

Carver had dreamed of his taste so many times he’d lost count and he relished in the taste of Felix on his tongue, the salty tang of a bead of precum like sweet nectar to him as he laved it from the swollen head.  Felix’s head fell back against the furs, eyes closing as a shiver ran through him.  He whimpered as Carver’s lips wrapped around his head and swallowed him down.

“Carver,” Felix breathed again, nails scratching at Carver’s scalp and it sent a jolt down his spine in want.

The warrior smiled again, almost more smirk, before he took Felix into his mouth again and found a steady rhythm.  Felix bucked lightly and Carver ran a hand soothingly down one of Felix’s thighs.  Carver listened to Felix’s quickening breaths and moans as if they were the sweetest music he had ever heard.  He watched the lowlander’s face, gauging each breath and miniscule expression, every thrust of his hips until Carver pulled away.

It was cruel, he knew, getting Felix so close to the edge and stopping.

Felix whined.  “Please.”

Carver traveled back up Felix’s body, hovering over him.  His lips met Felix’s again and he swallowed his need.

“Tell me what you want,” Carver breathed against him, cradling his cheek.

Felix let out a frustrated sigh as thought after thought played across his face. “There’s too many…”

Carver smiled fondly, chuckling softly as he smoothed the lines between Felix’s brows with his thumb.  “Shh, we have plenty of time.  I’m in no rush.”

Felix huffed.  “Says the tease.”

Carver kissed him, soft and chastely, before pulling away again.  “I have wanted you longer than I should admit.  Waiting a moment longer for you will be worth the wait.”

Felix searched his face, eyes softening.

For a second, Carver thought he saw Felix’s eyes shine as if there were tears.  Felix brought his hand up to Carver’s jaw, fingers brushing against his cheek, one laying gently at the soft skin behind his ear and two at his neck.  Then Felix pulled him down into a kiss.  It was tender, but it nearly stole the life from his lungs.

Felix rested his forehead against Carver, eyes closed as he broke the kiss.  He took a steadying breath before he looked up at Carver again.  There was still indecision there, but his resolve appeared firmer.

“Touch me,” Felix said, not quite a command, but not a beg.

Carver never broke his eyes from Felix as he trailed his hand down the copper skin beneath him until he had Felix in his hand again, his strokes slow, tugging at the foreskin with each pass.  Felix sighed at his touch and closed his eyes again at the feeling.  Carver just watched him, mesmerized.

Felix’s lips parted and he paused before he spoke again, voice softer, “Lower.”

Carver noted the near question as if Felix was unsure.  He watched Felix’s expressions as he palmed Felix’s sack before traveling lower.  Felix bucked his hips as he pressed a knuckle to the sensitive bundle of nerves between the man’s sack and the ring of muscle between the valley of his arse.

“Lower?” Felix asked again, this time clearly a question.

Carver hesitated a moment but trailed his finger down to the muscle and massaged it gently with the pad of a finger.  Again he watched his lowlander before he stopped and pulled his hand away.

Felix looked up at him, a confused pout at his lips.

“There is uncertainty in your voice,” Carver commented.  “What troubles you?”

Felix wet his lips, blushing.  He looked away, nervousness clear in his eyes.

“Hey,” Carver said gently, tucking a finger under his chin and bringing Felix’s gaze back to him, “Talk to me.  Do you want me to stop?”

Felix’s eyes went wide a second and the grip on Carver’s shoulder tightened a fraction.

“No, I don’t, I just…,” Felix stuttered, embarrassment in his eyes as he sighed.  “I’m a little nervous, yes.  I’ve not done…I’ve never done anything like this.  My touch is one thing, but another’s…”

“Are you telling me you’ve never had sex with a man before?” Carver asked in surprise, giving Felix a little bit of distance so he could clearly look at him.

Felix’s grip tightened again before it loosened as if unsure whether to keep Carver there.

“I…Well, no…”  Again he blushed, voice soft, “Not with anyone, no.  Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Carver’s chest swelled and tightened with something he hadn’t felt before and he smoothed a hand through Felix’s hair until it came to berth at the base of his skull.  It almost felt like pride.  Honor?  He certainly felt that in his own odd way.  Yet there was still something else there and it fluttered in the base of his belly like the light embrace of butterfly wings.

“Felix, love, do not apologize for something like that.  You’ve done nothing wrong,” Carver said, adoration clear in his voice.  “That just explains things.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Felix asked almost like an accusation.

Carver’s eyes widened.  “No, that’s not what I meant.  I just…”  He pursed his lips.  “It explains the hesitation, that I didn’t do anything wrong.  I…It doesn’t bother me that this is a first for you.  But it does give me an idea if you want to continue.”

Felix watched him a moment but nodded, slight suspicion in his eyes now.

Carver rolled over, digging under the bed for a moment before he dragged out a small box and threw the lid open and pulled out a vial of clear liquid.  When he rolled over again, he held it out to show Felix.

“Do you trust me?” Carver asked after a moment of Felix just staring at him and the vial with a raised eyebrow.

Felix nodded slowly and Carver leaned in and kissed him gently before settling down between Felix’s legs again.

“If you want me to stop,” Carver continued, coating his fingers with a generous amount the vial’s contents, “tell me and I will stop, no questions asked, no hurt feelings.  Ok?”

Again Felix nodded as he watched as Carver pressed his fingers to the tight ring of muscle between Felix’s legs.  He gasped slightly at the touch.

At Carver’s curious expression, Felix supplied, “Was just cold.”

Carver nodded slightly but didn’t reply as he continued to massage the muscle until it relaxed.  He tentatively tested a finger, Felix tightening around him at the first knuckle.

“Ok?” Carver asked, rubbing his other hand soothingly along Felix’s thigh.

“Yeah,” Felix replied weakly.

“Just relax, ok?” Carver said, reading him carefully in case Felix was afraid of telling him to stop.

Yet Felix took a deep breath and relaxed around Carver’s finger, allowing the warrior to continue the exploration gently and slowly.  Carver took care not to hurt him, to only take when Felix was willing to give, what his body was willing to give.

Carver had no intention of taking the lowlander like he wanted.  He wasn’t a small man by any means and he didn’t want to hurt Felix.  He was willing to wait, to see if Felix wanted to do this again.  If Felix did, Carver was willing to be patient no matter how many nights it took for Felix to be ready for it, to want Carver to bury himself inside Felix.  Carver remembered how much it would hurt if they did this too soon and he didn’t want Felix to have a memory like that.  So he would wait.

Carver shifted to a more comfortable position and Felix hissed causing him to pause.

“No, don’t stop,” Felix said quietly.

He nodded and then leaned down as his finger worked inside Felix, taking the man in his mouth again.  Felix gasped softly and his hand immediately entangled in Carver’s hair again.

Carver liked the taste of him, liked the feeling of Felix twitch on his tongue.

He crooked his finger and Felix bucked into his mouth, nearly panting.  Carver pulled back, trying not to cough.

“Sorry,” Felix murmured, his hand soothing in Carver’s hair.

It took him a moment, but Carver found a rhythm again, more prepared this time as he crooked his finger again and found the place he’d felt before.

Felix was definitely panting now, groaning loudly as Carver pumped into him and over him.

“More,” he breathed and Carver hummed in response eliciting another moan from the man as the sound reverberated around his cock.

Carver gently added another finger until it was seated snuggly inside Felix.  It wasn’t long until Felix’s hips were thrusting of their own accord as Felix’s hands curled into fists in Carver’s hair and the furs next to Felix’s hip.

“Carver,” he breathed, “Carver, please.  I’m…I’m so close.”

He hummed in reply again, not pulling away as he worked Felix’s body.  The only warning Carver received was Felix tightening around his fingers and the cave of his stomach before Felix was spending in Carver’s mouth.  Carver closed his eyes at the taste, putting it to memory as he swallowed every last drop Felix gave him.  He helped Felix down from his release before removing his fingers and his mouth.

Carver smiled fondly as he looked up Felix’s body, at the heaving rise and fall of his chest, the cling of sweat to his bronzed skin, the utter pleasure and contentment on his face.  Felix opened his eyes after a moment and met his, returning a soft smile.

“Come here,” Felix said and Carver obliged, hovering over him again.

“Felix,” Carver warned but his words were drowned out as the man pulled him down into a kiss again.

Carver made a note that Felix evidently had no problem with tasting himself.  He’d had few partners that had.

Carver smiled against Felix’s lips before he pulled away.  “Better?”

Felix nodded, amusement at the corners of his lips.  “Much.”

“Good,” Carver teased and kissed him chastely but tenderly.

They laid there a moment before Felix leaned up on his elbows, eyes drifting over Carver’s body.  “Forgive me, I was caught up in my own pleasure.  I didn’t think—”

Carver laughed, cutting him off and earning an unimpressed scowl.  “The purpose was so you _wouldn’t_ think, my lowlander.”

Felix’s scowl deepened but it only seemed to make Carver chuckle more.  Then a mischievous look flashed in his eyes and he pressed Carver down into the furs, straddling him, pulling Carver’s hands to rest beside his head.  Carver’s breath caught and he kept his hands rested against the furs willingly as Felix’s thumbs ran over the pulse points in his wrists.

“Stay,” Felix commanded and Carver quirked an eyebrow at him.

Then Felix shifted down, releasing his wrists, and running his hands down the length of Carver’s body.

“What are—Oh!”

Carver gasped as Felix’s lips wrapped around him.

Felix smirked at him, “No thinking, Carver Hawke.”


	39. Felix

[Month: Justinian, summer]

“Carver!” Felix laughed as Carver’s arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him back onto the bed.

“Mmm.”  Carver snuggled into the back of his neck, kissing it lightly.  “Stay just a little longer.”

“If we stay in bed any longer,” he smiled, trailing fingers lovingly up and down his lover’s arms, “we’re going to be late.”

Carver huffed in his hair and held him tighter, mumbling something he couldn’t quite catch.  Felix felt the smile pressed to his skin before he felt Carver’s teeth graze against the side of his neck.

“Carver,” Felix warned, but the rest of his protest fell away as Carver sucked another mark into his skin.

He licked the sting from it and smiled at him, clearly pleased with himself.  “What?  There’s not nearly enough.”

Felix snorted and pushed him back until he lay on his back.  Carver’s hands graced Felix’s hips and the warrior looked up at him appreciatively.  Felix leaned down so he hovered over him, drawing Carver’s expectant gaze.

“We are going to get out of this bed,” Felix smiled, “and we’re going to get dressed.”

“B-but the view.”

He laughed.  “You can get just as much of a nice view while getting dressed.  Come on.”

Felix went to stand but Carver’s arms tightened around him again and pulled him into his chest, hands gliding along his back.  A hand crept down his lower back to his ass and Felix watched as Carver smirked, fingers rubbing against his hole in a way he knew Felix liked.

Felix sighed and allowed the pleasure to build for a moment, bucking forward unconsciously from the sensations that heated his blood.  As Carver pressed the tip of a finger tentatively into him he seriously thought of staying and missing the merchant trip they’d agreed to accompany.

“I’ll let you do all sorts of naughty things to me after we get back,” Felix forced himself to say, voice breathier than he would have liked.

Carver just chuckled and leaned up to snag a kiss before slapping Felix’s ass lightly.

Felix gasped and then glared at him.

Carver sat up and pulled him with him, kissing him once more, lingering.  He rested his head against Felix’s forehead and sighed.

“Alright, Felix, I’ll get dressed.  But I’m going to take you on your word.”

“Which part?” he raised an eyebrow teasingly.

Carver snorted and lifted him off his lap with ease.

 

.   .   .

 

“It’s about damn time you two got here.  We were about to leave without you,” Dagny scoffed, scanning over the mix of fresh and old love-marks on Felix’s neck and shoulders.  “Honestly, how hard is it to keep your dicks in your pants for more than five seconds?”

Carver laughed delightedly as Felix blushed.  “Jealous?”

“Ugh,” Dagny replied and rolled her eyes.  Her voice more affectionate than chastising. “You’re so gross.”

Carver put an arm around Felix’s shoulders and planted kisses on his temple.  Felix giggled and shoved him off as Dagny just shook her head and sent a silent prayer up to the sky.

“If you two are quite done,” Colban laughed, hefting a bag over his back.  “We’re losing daylight.”

Carver handed Felix a bag and they made their way down into the valley.

It took them nearly a week before they reached the outpost beyond the pass.  Dwarves had already set up their booths and were peddling their wares to passerby of various holds.  Felix didn’t think he could remember which hold was which as Carver pointed them out.

“Elyssa!” Carver called, face lighting up as he spotted a friend.

“Carver,” a woman beamed as she spotted them.  “How are you?”

He embraced her, lifting her a few inches off the ground as she grumbled at him affectionately.

“I’m doing well.  Yourself?  I hear that husband of yours is supposed to visit Cullen sometime soon.”

She nodded.  “I am spite and vinegar as always, they tell me, but I am good.  We’re thinking near harvest time.  It’s been too long since our holds feasted together.  Who is your friend?”

Carver looked over at Felix and gestured for him to join them.  “This is Felix.”

“Ah, the lowlander.  I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I hope they were good things,” Felix replied, unsure what to say.

She barked a laugh.  “Of course.  Alistair has been beside himself from Cullen’s missives.  Honestly, Carver.  What took you so long?  He’s attractive.  I’m surprised you didn’t—”

“Ok, I get it, I’m slow,” Carver said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Elyssa shook her head at him but smiled as she clasped Felix’s forearm in greeting.  “I am Thane Elyssa Elsdotten O Stormhold.  Alistair Shieldbreaker is my husband.”

“Ah,” Felix replied, “That explains things.  It’s good to meet you.”

She winked at him before turning back to Carver.  “We would welcome you and your kin at our fires tonight.  I promise not to scare off your lowlander.”

Colban snorted at that as he passed.  “If Carver hasn’t scared him off yet, best of luck to you.”

Carver sighed heavily before waving a farewell to Elyssa as she was called back to her people.

“Well that was interesting,” Felix noted.

“She means well,” Carver replied as they moved through booths.  “Alistair and Cullen are like brothers, and I’ve known Elyssa for years.  Is there anything you’d like to look at?  We have plenty to trade.”

“I’d heard the dwarves traded with the Avvar.  Didn’t think I’d see it.  They seem friendlier with you lot than they do with Fereldens or Orlesians.”

“That might be because we allow them to travel through the Frostbacks without fear of raids.  The alliance between our peoples and the dwarves is probably the only one to last the ages.”

Most of the booths were run by weapon and armor smiths.  Toward the center of the congregation, Felix could feel the pull and soft song of lyrium.  One of their mages was already bargaining for lyrium for the hold from the merchant.

“Anything in particular the dwarves might want?” Felix asked as Carver inspected a dagger.

“Furs and leather mostly.  Evidently, good quality is hard to come by in the Deep Roads,” the warrior replied simply.  “Makes sense though.  We trade with the Orlesians for spices and other things we can’t make or get ourselves from the valley.  I remember this one especially liked our goat cheese.”

“Orlesians do love their cheeses,” Felix said distractedly.

Carver smiled softly.  “Weapons don’t interest you much.  Come with me.  I think there’s something you might like.  They’re usually here this time of year.”

Carver led Felix deeper into the market until Felix’s ears alit with the rise and fall of Orlesian.  Three Orlesian men stood behind a booth, one trying to coax for customers while the other two chatted away between each other.

“Are those books?” Felix’s eyebrows shot to his hairline.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen so many.

“Go on.  I’ll meet you by that pole when you’re done.  Trade for what you like.”

“Are you sure?  These goods would be better spent on things for the hold,” Felix stated.

Carver chuckled.  “You can buy a book.  It’s alright.  We could always use more additions to the hold.  Gives the kids something new to read.  Or maybe you can read to me?”

Judging by the wink he gave him, Felix had a feeling it wouldn’t be just reading they’d do.

Carver nudged him toward the booth and then left him to his own devices.

The merchant smiled at him when he arrived and gestured toward the silks hanging from a bar across the top of the booth.  A part of him missed silks, but they’d get ruined in the mountains the way he’d like to wear them.  Though he did think about surprising Carver with one.

Felix mentally shook himself at a rather enticing image of his lover in silk and glossed a hand over a tome.  Now _that_ he had missed greatly.

“Ugh.  Why do we even bring these?” one of the men said quietly to his companion, face relaxed so as not to give away his disgust.  “These heathens can’t even read let alone appreciate them.  And always with the _touching_.  They’ll ruin them.”

“They buy them sometimes,” the other commented.

“Probably for kindling.”

“Some of us do enjoy a good book,” Felix replied, unfazed by the men’s startled looks at being caught.

They looked sheepish and Felix paid them little mind as he looked over the tomes.  They were mostly stories or copies of Genitivi’s works.

“You’re accent isn’t very Avvar even if you dress like one,” one of them said suspiciously.

“I studied in the lowlands,” Felix said smoothly, eying them.

“An Avvar at a university?  What next?  An elf as emperor?” the other scoffed.

Felix blinked, forgetting for a moment that he had not been born Avvar.

“You are not Avvar…You’re accent…,” the first cocked his head, still watching him.  “Not Antivan, no.”

“Tevinter, actually.”

That seemed to get them buzzing.

Felix suppressed a sigh, realizing he’d just fed their gossiping fires.

“Sweet Andraste, how did a magister end up with barbarians?”

“Did they kidnap you?  I hear they do that.”

“Only their lovers,” Felix replied simply as he thought back to a joke Carver had made about stealing and claiming him before he’d led him into the bedroom.  He returned his attention back to the books as the Orlesians turned rosy.  “I have furs mostly.  Would you be willing to make a trade for one of these?”

Felix picked up one of the tomes, glancing at the title.

“I’ll even throw in some silk if you give us your story,” the first exclaimed, leaning towards him.

“So you can gossip,” Felix noted.  “You will have to forgive me.  I’ve lived with the Avvar long enough that I have become blunt.”

The Orlesian waved a hand.

“Wait,” one of the others said suspiciously, “you weren’t a part of that group a year ago were you?  The one that disappeared in the Frostbacks?  It was the talk of Comte de Mourier’s salon last year.  Remember, Marius?”

“That’s right!” the man replied.  “I thought they found one of them.  Poor soul was Blighted.  Didn’t get much out of him before he succumbed.  How on earth did you survive?”

Felix’s eyes were hard as he regarded them.

This was not something he wanted to discuss.  With everything that had happened to him over the year, grieving for his family hadn’t felt real.  It was almost like they were still alive just somewhere far away.  To think about it – to relive it – was not something Felix wanted to do.  He’d long closed that door.  It was less painful that way.

“Then you have your story, it seems,” Felix stated coolly.  “I’d rather not open an old wound.  Let the dead be at peace.”

“We did not mean any offense, messere.  We simply…Forgive us.  If you were a part of that party, I can only imagine what you have seen.”

Felix paused but nodded.  “The Avvar saved my life.  There is nothing left for me beyond these mountains.  That is all I will say.  If you wish to hear a tale, speak to one of the skalds that have traveled here.  They weave the most intriguing tales.”

The merchant inclined his head.

“Are you alright?” Carver asked when Felix returned to him.

Felix sighed and leaned against Carver’s side.  “I forgot how nosy Orlesians are.”

He raised an eyebrow.  “Do I need to fight someone?”

That got a snort out of him and Felix relaxed.  “No, it’s alright.  Though…I don’t know.  They got me to thinking about some things.”

Carver was quiet beside him for a time before he spoke.  “You miss your home.”

“I do,” Felix admitted before looking up at him, standing on his toes to kiss Carver softly.  “But my home is with you now.  I do miss Tevinter, but after everything that’s happened.  I don’t know if I can return there and not think…My parents are gone.  Going back right now would bring back too many memories I want to leave buried.”

Carver put an arm around him.  “Yet you had friends there.”

“Yes, and as far as they know I’m dead.  What am I going to write?  ‘Sorry to not write, Dorian, but I’m still alive.  Oh, and you’ll never guess where I am!  Would you like to hear about the time I was possessed?’  Oh, yes, that’ll go over wonderfully.”

Carver kissed the top of his head.  “If you want to write him, this would be a good time.  We don’t talk much with the outside world, but that doesn’t mean you have to be secluded.  You may be Avvar now, but you are also Tevinter.  Your past is important.  Think about it?”

Felix nodded and they made their way through the market again.

He missed Dorian and his other friends, but he wasn’t sure how to broach the topic without causing any of them pain.  And he wasn’t sure if he was ready to let that part of his life back in just yet.  Whatever his decision, Felix knew he wouldn’t go back to Tevinter just yet – if ever.  For now he was content to remain with his burly Avvar lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have every intention to (eventually) write a sequel to this exploring more about Felix's life with Carver and the Avvar and bringing in a particularly beloved mage for a particular curly-haired thane ;)
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's been a journey even while it collected dust on my laptop for a few years after completion. Dragon Age and all its characters make me happy and I'm grateful for the fandom who has made me love it more with its content.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and leaving comments and kudos. It made me smile knowing people enjoyed this fic enough to do that. You all are awesome.


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